


The Haircuts

by k8 (paintedmaypole)



Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Pop Music RPF, Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-15
Updated: 2004-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 71,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedmaypole/pseuds/k8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"</p><p>---<br/>This story was written in an ancient time, before hipsters. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One (Chapters 1-5)

**Author's Note:**

> Ooodles of thanks to Katie for the beta, the plotting, the everything. This story wouldn't exist without her.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooodles of thanks to Katie for the beta, the plotting, the everything. This story wouldn't exist without her.

 

 

 _"A glamorous posturing of old design  
So join the safety crusade and we all feel fine"_  
\-- "United By Haircuts," The (International) Noise Conspiracy

 

 

 **Chapter 1: _Theme_**

JC wants it to be a theme party. He can't think of a theme, suggests a color perhaps-- not black though, that's so been done before, and twice. But Lance puts his foot down with a "no. Just, no. And how the fuck do I know you? And why do you live here?" He also raises his right eyebrow higher than normal sarcasm levels allow so JC doesn't think he'll push it for a while.

So it will not be a theme party, he tells Britney on the [T](http://www.mbta.com), which results in her snapping her gum in a comforting way and making him focus on her hair instead. It's a new hairdresser, she's not sure his ideas about fringe should really have been implemented in the real world, but JC likes it quite a bit. Actually, JC likes it so much he wants to know where she got it and how much. Good hair dressers are important. Besides, Mother has scheduled a haircut at home for JC's wedding prep. JC is trying to avoid said haircut. Like the plague.

Hair debate continues. JC suggests Britney try dying it a very orangey red, because the color obviously won't exist in nature, but the Men In Suits can't fire her for it. Britney claims to detest the Men In Suits-- secret code name for executive assistant position at top advertising agency-- but she gets paid and can afford to have a DIESEL Ass, and really, she tells JC, that's something worth paying for.

They, however, are on a shopping Mission and must find the JC the perfect shoe for a wedding. A wedding that requires he wear a suit. All of which is very distressing, because one must respect the bride and groom (or brother and sister in law to be, in this case), but one also likes to maintain a bit of self amidst the insanity. Colorful ties help. As do orange dress socks.

So Britney and JC are on a Mission for shoes, something clompy, and entertain themselves by staring at their reflections in the glass windows on the Orange Line. Pushing their hair up, down and shifting the part to the left, to a sharper angle, to no part... It's important to try new things, to expand your horizons.

JC really likes Britney's new hair and later, at the apartment, JC feeds the cat while Lance takes one look at her, smiles, agrees and just says "girl looks good". That's all they'll get out of him anyway.

 

It really was not going to be a theme party. Lance tells this to everyone. He tells them he's morally opposed to the idea of a theme party, it's just that Britney's idea really worked and technically he doesn't think serving drinks that are any color in the category of ROYGBIV and not brown or clear or tan or yellowish clear is a theme. Not really. No, no 'not really', it isn't a theme. At all. And the punk boys downstairs bring up a case of beer when they arrive, so really, there's no theme to the drinks period.

She does make an excellent Cosmopolitan though.

Six hours later it's recovery and clean up. They're sending JC off to wedding hell with a bang damn it, or, Lance tells him, he had better lie and say it was a bang, because the floors are sticky and there is a pile of bottles on the everything and someone broke the Our Lady of the Perpetual Bathtub they stole from Mr. Herches front yard and put in the living room to bless their humble hovel.

This is a huge loss. JC firmly believes they never would have found the blue coffee table in the back alley if he hadn't cleaned her up and rescued her. The coffee table is the same shade of blue as the inside of her bathtub. Lance, however, insists she can be repaired; made newer, stronger, better than before. And JC has learned that when Lance looks determined and crosses his arms just so, he's a force to be reckoned with.

 

JC still has to get his hair cut, but he has shoes and his mother covered the bus ticket, so he stuffs everything he thinks he needs into Lance's green duffel and then spends two hours debating over which cd's to bring. JC feels his physical need to sing "I Don't Love Anyone" very very loudly when annoyed (as he suspects he will be, a lot, while home) outweighs Lance's hatred of people borrowing his cd's. So he throws _Tigermilk_ in while Lance isn't looking and decides that Tori, while something he might not really broadcast liking to the public anymore, is still a nice guilty pleasure, so _Little Earthquakes_ gets swiped from Lance too. And then it's minutes 'til meeting Justin and a haircut appointment, so he gives up on deciding, grabs at a few somethings, runs out the door, and prays to the stylist gods to be kind as the schedule goes: pack, haircut, bus, home. And that will be that.

 

 

 **Chapter 2: _The Stylist Gods_**

Justin is dragged along to the haircutting for moral support. JC is almost as nervous about new haircuts as he is about needles, so moral support, and someone who knows how to distract him, is definitely a must.

"And I'm fucking telling you JC, the boy has not moved that pot of spaghetti off the stove and it's been a week and a half and there's fucking mold damn it. Mold in it!"

Justin gestures widely as he talks, JC clucks sympathetically as Justin lights a cigarette. Justin always holds his cigarettes between his thumb and index finger which irritates JC, but he doesn't really know why.

"And I am not going to put my hands on that. It may be green, but I know what meat sauce looks like and there is a moldy dead cow in that saucepan!"

JC's focused on the thumb and forefinger of Justin's hand, on the way the ash falls around him with a large gesture. Justin's fingernail's are blue, he probably stole it from Britney. Or it was her idea to begin with, Britney strongly advocates for boys in nail polish, says it's timeless.

JC yawns. He's hung over from the not-a-theme party, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it. He'd drink water, but then he might have to use the bathroom while he's on the bus. And really, no. Yuck.

There's some sort of disaster taking place at the salon. A girl with very long green nails is sort of crying sort of shrieking, JC can't tell which, and an older woman with black black hair and bangs in a straight line across her forehead is holding Green-Nail-Lady's arm and saying something reassuring. Something about no charge.

JC is standing at the counter, watching nervously and seriously beginning to doubt in the power that is Britney's haircut, when a voice comes at him, "appointment?" And he looks up to a face that is oddly familiar, but he can't place.

Justin however, can be a take charge kind of guy, when moldy spaghetti with meat sauce isn't the issue, and he winds up answering, "yes he does. Now I think?" And, "I've seen you around, haven't I? Green Party last week, lame as all hell."

"Highly. But the attempt at a cute pun scores some minor scene points. And then looses them twice because it was such an obvious attempt."

"You have no idea, and what the hell was with the beer? Fucking water my plants with that crap. JC?"

JC is attempting to pay attention to Green-Nail-Lady and Severe-Bangs-Lady and Boy-That-Looks-Vaguely-Familiar, but he looks at Justin when called. "Yes. JC. Appointment now. With? Chris?"

 

The fates are kind and Severe-Bangs-Lady is not Chris but Joyce and Boy-That-Looks-Vaguely-Familiar gets his name shortened to Chris and he seems to understand exactly what JC means when he says wedding appropriate, but then says "but, not wedding appropriate." And Justin seems to be bonding with boy named Chris over the Green Party and some themes being "just so wrong" and on the difficulty of finding _Rocky Horror_ on vinyl, because he's been looking for it for-fucking-ever.

So they all get to toddle off into the noon o-clock sunset. JC with non-wedding-appropriate wedding appropriate hair and Justin with the promise that Chris will be somewhere at the Mop Head concert next week and will find him. Justin, social butterfly that he is, likes to maintain a widening social circle. It helps when one is bored at concerts. Or broke and in need of alcohol.

 

 

 **Chapter 3: _Vote No On Greyhound Racing_**

The bus ride is tolerable. JC hums a bit and he finds a seat towards the back, far enough back that no one sits next to him all the ride though and he can sit with his legs up on the seat next to him and his green Converse sneakers pushed up on the arm of the seat. This improves the bus ride. So do The Clash, which apparently got thrown into his bag during the race out of the apartment. The whole knee bouncing, singing along thing scares the lady across the aisle, but that just makes things more fun. Besides, she has three inch long roots, a perm and blue eye shadow. JC considers it an act of protest.

Upon arrival, his mother makes no comment about the hair, just takes Central Avenue home instead of Edgewood, to avoid the stoplights, and tells him they ordered Chinese food from [House of Chao](http://www.newmassmedia.com/foo.phtml?code=new&db=foo_cui&ref=10379), because it's JC's favorite place to get Chinese and he misses it. Only, his father orders the dinner and forgets about JC's whole not eating dead animals thing, again. So when they pull into the driveway and walk into the house there are steaming cartons filled with House of Chao Special Chicken and Beef with Broccoli and Sweet and Sour Pork waiting for them. And Vegetable Fried Rice. JC eats at the Vegetable Fried Rice, which is, of course, the one thing he doesn't like on the menu and smells suspiciously of pork. His mother assures him they've ordered him a special vegetarian plate at the wedding, just for him, and she's checked, twice, to make sure it wasn't fish. His father looks embarrassed and apologizes and offers to make spaghetti.

 

Tony arrives around 11 pm, rescuing JC from complete and total boredom. JC's having protein deprived stomach flutter so there's a brief burrito pit stop at [Claire's](http://www.clairescornercopia.com/) before they're off to the pad formerly known as the bachelor's pad. Keri greets them from the living room and JC gives them the three blue mugs and two red bowls he grabbed from the discard bin at the paint-your-own-pottery store two weeks earlier. Then there's a brief reacquaint-yourself-with-the-pad tour where JC gets to see the green chairs found for the dining room table and the blue couch and red velvet armchair Keri's grandmother donated to the living room.

What could be better than the tour, than a tour followed by alcohol? So Keri calls a guy named Nick, who JC knew once more than vaguely and tells him they're in desperate need of margaritas and if he brings ice she'll let him have some. Apparently Nick thinks this is a bargain, because he arrives _avec_ ice exactly seventeen minutes later.

JC knows it's been a while since he's been home when Nick comes through the door using a key of his own and is so tall he could hit the ceiling with one hand and no jumping and JC barely recognizes him as being someone he might have once babysat for.

"Greetings and salutations." Nick grins as he ducks into the room, "I brought ice. One bag, you just said one. And I brought food coloring, because I saw some show on the Food Network where they colored the drinks and I really want to try making it blue. Or teal maybe, teal is good. Hey, I know you..."

Now he's looking at JC. Nick wears the glasses JC almost bought and pushes them up a bit on his nose and smiles. There are reintroductions. Nick expresses great affection for JC's old man blazer, which is a blue that JC spent a rather long amount of time finding. Then Tony asks "how'd the reading go", so there's catch up time for the locals and JC has to ask if Nick is still writing, because he did, a lot, in high school, went to the arts program with the rest of them, and Nick is kinda quiet for a moment, but then says "yes, the writing thing..." And he doesn't finish, but then he smiles and pushes up his sleeves and says he's "trying to get in a workshop at least, over the summer, but we'll see."

 

By 12:53 JC has teased Nick just a little about the two times he babysat for him when he was little and they're talking about what they've been up to and about the potential approval of oil drilling at ANWR, if GW Bush has his way. There's the wildlife you know; can't forget what happened with the owls. And JC mentions-- a little off topic-- about how he's always wanted to go to Acadia National Park in Maine, but he saw the Beluga whale once in the harbor when he was little.

Nick laughs, "I still remember learning that stupid song."

"Ha. Yes. _'Baby Beluga in the deep blue sea...'_ there were hand motions too. Did they make you do the hand motions?"

"No, I left that year. We moved to New York before we got to them."

"You didn't miss much. Lots of pointing up and down again. I think there was at least one spectacularly choreographed chorus wide performance of the wave. "

"Uch. The horror."

"Tormenting small children is so not cool."

"Well," Nick grins, "fun when you get to do it."

"Ah, yes, well. That's different."

"So, where are you these days? Tony said Boston or something?"

"Yup," JC nods, "been there a bit now. Pretty much working like crazy, everywhere, to pay rent. But it works, it's fun. Better than here, I think. I mean, we have a cat."

 

Eventually Tony and Keri interrupt with the margaritas. Nick's isn't blue, or teal, or anything other than lime green, because if he's dying anything, Keri tells him, he has to do it himself. So he makes JC drink his really fast and then they go to make more. The blue dye turns it teal really fast, so there's one grand artistic success, but the red makes everything brownish and rather gross so everyone drinks those with their eyes closed.

Towards 1:40 they're all fairly drunk, or close, or beyond. JC's touching his hair a lot, which means he's pretty happily drunk, but Nick seems okay. There's passionate debate over The White Stripes-- JC's heard they aren't brother and sister, that they used to be married, Nick says this is ridiculous, they look like a brother and sister and why would they lie about it anyway? Keri jumps in to ask who they are and JC is mildly horrified.

"Tony! What are you doing to my girl? Are you still having a ska phase?"

Tony's in the kitchen, so he just shouts, "oh, fuck you JC. That stopped being a phase about twenty years ago to never. That's a phase like you digging boys is a phase."

"Besides," Keri shouts at Tony from her chair, "you look so cute dancing in your little checkered shoes."

JC snorts, turns to Nick, "and the buttons. Can't forget the buttons."

"No no," Nick corrects him, "I believe we call them badges, thank you."

"Wait wait, hold up." Tony comes back into the room, hands Keri a beer and throws pretzels at JC's lap. "Nick ignore him. This is coming from the boy who made me the 'Skank or Die' mix tape in tenth grade. The guy who snuck me in to see The Specials with him. This," he points at JC, "is the man who had a ten minute speech about how wrong Reel Big Fish is-- or was-- and about fucking ska purity."

"Okay okay, fuck you, it's not a phase. Besides, The Specials are just so beyond... shit, whatever. I'm too drunk to do this logically."

Nick is on one end of the blue couch, JC's on the other, he turns into the arm so he's facing everyone. "Wait. Rewinding a moment here. When did you start liking boys too? Were you liking them in high school, because I do not remember that, and I kept a list."

"Weeell," Tony grins, "He had a brief fling of denial. Then he got trashed and we snuck into the office of the [Little Theatre](http://www.newmassmedia.com/the.phtml?code=new&db=the_rev&ref=19359) at like 11 at night and he tried to kiss me."

JC groans, "I was depressed, I was horny. Don't flatter yourself. Besides, things were stupid back then. I was."

"Hey!" Tony frowns and throws a pretzel at JC's head. "High school is weird, that's all." He looks back at Nick, "I got all worried about him for a bit though."

"Aww," Keri grins. "You guys were cute. Nick, JC comes running in to find me after art class and he's jumping all over the place, grabbing at my arm, saying 'Keri, I fucked up so baaad' he was so freaked. And meanwhile, Tony finds me the next day and he's looking like he shot a puppy, telling me "Keri, oh my god, Keri, JC kissed me!' And Nick, I swear to you, he squeaked."

"I did not."

"Oh you did. You always do when you panic."

"Okay, okay," JC waves his hands, "to end this lovely flashback. Tony," he points, "straight but not narrow. JC," he taps his chest, "dumped his skinny ass for other finer, less heterosexual things."

"Actually," Tony looks over at Nick, "you should tell JC how you came out to everyone. He'd be amused."

Keri laughs, "Oh, yes. My poor mother."

"Hey!" Nick kicks his foot in her direction. "It wasn't that bad. I just didn't feel like having to tell everyone individually, like it was some big thing."

"Yeah," Tony grins, "so you figured you'd just make a public announcement?"

"Okay, okay," JC interrupts. "Wait, stop." He looks at Nick, "what did you do?"

"Well, it was. Some party at Keri's house. Why were we having it?"

"I don't know. My parents were gone?"

"Well, anyway. I'd been hooking up with a boy in my American Lit. class after study groups, I'd read pamphlets. I was all 'wohoo, I'm gay.' So I got to Keri's and I hadn't seen most people in ages, so I just made a little sign."

"With my crayons. And it wasn't that little."

"It was a lovely sign. And it just said, 'PS Nick's Gay!' and that was that."

"Until after the party was over and we forgot to take the sign down and my mother comes back-- Nick and I are zombies on the couch at this point-- and she walks in the front door and is like 'Keri? Why's there a sign in the front hallway? Why does Nick want us to know he's gay?'"

"Well, she wasn't mad or anything."

"No, but as soon as you left we had to have A Talk you fucker."

"So she was all concerned about your acceptance of me. She looooves me."

"She does."

"Oh!" Nick clapped quickly, "New subject. Tony! We should play Bullshit now. Yes."

 

Nick cheats at cards, a lot. But he's good at it, or good at smiling and twinkling at JC when he's caught so JC forgives him. JC beats him twice anyway.

By 2:53 Keri is crashing out on Tony's shoulder and JC does have to be home for wedding stuff in the morning, so Tony drags out blankets and says goodnight. Nick takes off his glasses, puts them in his shoe, and makes JC swear to remind him they're there in the morning, because he looses his glasses everywhere.

JC's yawning a lot, but it's been a while so they sit up a little longer and watch Keri's _Utena_ DVD's until Nick hears JC yawn for the fiftieth time in a minute and tells JC he thinks he's gonna sleep. Nick takes the brown couch. He lets JC take the futon.

 

The morning of the wedding the house turns into an insane asylum. His mother is tearing the house apart for bobby pins, his brother needs safety pins. His father is hiding somewhere.

JC finds his brother in the bathroom, flipping out over tying a green bowtie. JC can't tie it so he tracks down his father who can. Eventually bobby pins, safety pins and extra stockings (just in case) have all been found and everyone piles into the station wagon for the church.

There's music. JC and his mother and his father all walk Tyler down the aisle together. JC's dad cries, his mother has tissues ready for him. When JC checks out the church he sees Nick sitting towards the back, which is cool. He nods towards Nick and Nick sticks his tongue out at JC.

After the ceremony JC finds Nick standing by the door, at the top of the church steps. "So, you came."

"Yeah."

"You clean up well."

Nick grins, "I tried. Great socks."

JC gives a bow, "why thank you."

They wander over to the corner of the steps, JC sits on the top stair.

"So, your little brother just got married."

"Yeah, I guess I feel old."

"Weddings are weird. Too many long lost aunts."

"And things of that ilk. Yes."

"What're they feeding you later?"

"Me? Well, I'm not quite sure. I'm a little nervous about that." JC looks around towards the crowd. The photographer is taking photos. JC is probably supposed to be there. He turns back. "So."

"Yeah."

"You came, that's cool."

"Yeah--"

"--JC?" JC's mother is heading towards them. "JC we need you for photographs."

"Um." JC rubs at the back of his neck, turns towards his mother. "I'm just talking to--"

"--Nicky?" She puts her hand on Nick's shoulder. "Nicky Carter, look at you!"

Nick looks at JC, smiles, then back to JC's mother, "Hi Mrs. Chasez. It was a really nice wedding."

"Oh I know. They're so sweet together. JC," she turns towards JC, "you didn't tell me Nicky was here."

"Um. I didn't know he would be."

"Nicky. No. Are you still a Nicky?"

"Well, no. I'm a Nick these days."

"Sorry, sorry. Nick you should come to the reception with us. Right JC?"

"Um."

"Yes, you should," she looks back towards the group on the steps a moment, "we've got room. There's so much food. JC's aunt and uncle couldn't make it. Come."

Nick looks at the two of them, JC nods at him, "Okay, yeah."

"All right. You stay put here, we have to take these photos and get rid of this photographer before we go over another hour. Then we'll get someone to give you a ride over to the reception. JC? Come on."

 

At dinner Nick is seated at a table with some aunts and JC's father's college roommate. Looking over at the table, JC's a little nervous, but when Nick looks at him, he smiles and doesn't look too panicked, so JC guesses it must be okay.

After the toasting is over and JC doesn't throw up from having to talk, the band starts playing. No one in JC's family dances and the music isn't what JC personally considers danceable, so he finds Nick, leans in and whispers, "quick, save me."

Nick leans back towards him, hair hiding his eyes and hitting JC's shoulder, "we need to find the bar and then get to the porch."

"Yes, you're brilliant. Quick, while there's a diversion." JC grabs his elbow and ducks and they move away to the bar.

Later, they're out on the patio and JC sneaks out bottles of ginger ale and more cake. Nick takes off his jacket and leans on the railing. He smiles at JC. "So, you miss it here ever?"

JC frowns. "Not really. I mean, it isn't the worst place ever, but I like being in a bigger city. And it's not that far really."

"No."

"Why are you still here?"

"Um. Well, why not?" Nick looks down at the railing. "No, it was just easier. I mean, Mom didn't want me to go really far and [Yale](http://www.yale.edu) gave me money and then I could stay home." He spreads his hands out on the railing. "There wasn't really much to choose."

"Hey, no." JC stands up. "I mean, it's cool. You're smart, you've always been wicked smart."

Nick snorts, "yeah, so I hear."

"Well, it's cool. I mean, it's a good thing. And you could always write too. I remember that."

"Yeah."

Nick's staring out at a tree, or towards a tree. The band finishes a song and it's really quiet. JC's not sure what to say. "I'm sorry. I said something dumb, didn't I?"

"No no," Nick turns around again. "I'm just. There's been all this crap going on lately. I could have graduated early, in three years. Mom wanted me too. Mom thinks a lot of things."

"Oh. That sucks."

"Yeah. I don't know. I mean, I could have? But I wanted a writing minor. And I wanted another year. I'm at this point where I think I really really might have fucked it up and I'm not sure I studied the right things and now I'm finished and maybe I'm stuck with things and I really don't know if I want to be a lawyer or some political type. I mean, it's interesting. There's a lot in it that interests me, but I don't know if it's what I want to do." Nick takes a breath, "and now they want to know when I'm applying to more schools and graduate programs and whatever. It's just a lot to think about."

"Well, lawyers. I mean, the [ACLU](http://www.aclu.org) is kind of cool."

"Yes. It is. I mean, that's how I used to look at it. I'd do that kind of thing. I know I'm smart, I don't want to sound like a prick, but I mean, I know I've been lucky and I've gotten good grades and I could do some things. But, I don't know if it's something I want to do forever. I don't know, it also feels kind of stupid to just leave it."

"I think. I think it sounds like you need to test it. To see what you like, out in the real world. Like an internship or something. I mean, there are tons of places around here, or what about something with a professor? And your parents couldn't argue with that."

"Yeah." Nick hums to himself. "Lets stop, this is depressing." He smiles at JC, "I say we find more cake."

 

There's more cake to be found. Nick lets JC eat his icing and JC's mother finds them and drags JC back for one dance, just one. The band plays "The Hokey Pokey" and JC swears he's in hell until he sees Nick putting his left hand in, his left hand out with JC's grandmother and grinning towards JC, rolling his eyes. Then it's sorta okay.

Nick gets a ride offer from a friend of the groom, so he's got to leave when she does. He finds JC though, puts his hand on the small of JC's back. "Hey, I've got to go."

"No, really?" JC looks around the room, "here, I'll walk you out.

JC leads him out to the parking lot, they don't say anything on the way. JC thanks the driver for coming, for driving Nick home, he plays with his tie.

"It was cool. Thank your mom for me."

"It was," he smiles at Nick, "thank you for saving me from them."

Nick gets in the car, JC knocks on the window at him. "Hey, give me your email, tell me what happens and everything."

The driver, luckily, has a pen in her purse. And paper. Emails are exchanged.

JC's still leaning on the door. "Okay, so."

"Yeah, I'll email you."

"Definitely. Keep Tony out of trouble."

Nick starts to roll up the window. "Who me?" He blinks at JC.

JC grins, "well, do what you can to keep yourself out of trouble." He hits the roof of the car. "Bye."

Nick waves through the window and JC watches until they're gone.

 

 

 **Chapter 4: _Good Liberals Everywhere_**

JC gets back to the city with a sigh of relief. He enters the apartment thinking 'home again, home again, jiggidy jig' and then has to deal with "Gettin' Jiggy With It" being stuck in his head for a good hour. And singing 'na na na nah na na nah' around the apartment.

He tries to take a nap, but fifteen minutes into it the phone is ringing and Joey's yelling "how the hell are you? Did you survive?" So he sits up in bed, rubs at his hair and talks to Joey until Joey says "wait. Stop. Come over, come over, I'll make dinner. Have you eaten? No, of course you haven't. Have you even got food in the apartment?"

So, no nap, but there's free food and Joey and that'll make up for it quite a bit.

When he gets there Joey's watching the Fox News Network and yelling at the screen.

"Why do you watch that crap?" JC frowns at him, "you know he's just going to piss you off."

"Fucking hour of war my ass!" Joey shakes an orange towel at the screen, "I know, I know, but sometimes you just like to yell at the television and get really mad for a while. It's cathartic."

"Oooo, cathartic, nice. Someone's been using their vocab calendar."

"Shut up bitch. Give me a hug."

JC laughs and hugs Joey. He squeezes at JC's shoulders and mutters about fattening JC up a bit, how he's been away too long and probably not getting any protein.

"One weekend you dork." JC rolls his eyes, "so what are you feeding me?"

"Honey, I bought Garden Burgers just for you-- What! Fucking doing the world a _favor_!? Like we're exempt from..."

 

JC likes Boca Burgers better, but free is always best. Joey throws him a tomato to chop and they start in on the beer. Eventually JC convinces Joey that he's being masochistic watching anything touching the Fox News Network and that there's a difference between knowing the enemy and self destructive behavior. So Joey just talks about the race for governor and fucking high-as-a-kite Mitt Romney and how the good liberals everywhere are doomed unless the good liberals everywhere institute breeding programs and begin placing subliminal messages in advertising. Somehow JC thinks that isn't quite going to fly and Joey would have to agree. Particularly since all the good liberals everywhere, and the potential converts, tend to listen to public radio anyway.

"So, your family? It was good and everything?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I thought Tyler would flip or something, but he was all happy and stuff. Tony came by and rescued me too. I stayed up way too late and drank margaritas with him and Keri and this guy I know, Nick. And Joey, dude, I babysat for that kid. Okay, like two times, but still, I haven't seen him in years. And he's huge. His shoulders, god. So tall."

Joey 'mmm hmmms' at JC around a slice of tomato and waves at him to continue. JC manages to hit Joey's hand before he steals all the tomato and sends him to the corner to fetch plates. "Keri got all stern with us because Nick wanted colored margaritas, different colors, and we got dye on the counters. We had to drink brown ones when it didn't work, but whatever, it was fun."

"How'd the toast go?"

"Oh, it was okay. I think it went okay. Lots of blah blah blah and remember when I spilt the red paint and blamed it on you? Blah blah... Nick said it was good though. He laughed."

"Nick was there?"

"He came to the church and Mom dragged him along for food. It was cool, he saved me from dancing. We stole cake."

"Sounds fun. How old is this kid?"

"Um. Got to be, like, 22 or something?"

"Mmm," Joey wags a finger at JC and steals more tomato. "Younger men JC, trouble trouble..."

"He's not that much-- No no, seriously, he's not even near here. Not an interest. He's just a nice kid."

JC's about to continue when he sniffs and smells smoke. Fucking Joey and insisting on setting a table and sitting and eating "like the civilized people we aren't". They manage to rescue the burgers, but they're crispier than they ought to be on the outside. However, this means it's at least two minutes into them until Joey whines about eating fake meat. JC considers this a record and just laughs at him. By now he's used to it, it's like home.

 

 

 **Chapter 5: _Like Seeing[Ira Glass](http://www.thislife.org) for the First Time _**

When Justin and JC get bored they play Last Will and Testament with their t-shirt collections. One of JC's prize possessions is his "Wide to Receive" shirt from the 1997 Morrissey tour. Justin claimed it two Christmases earlier along with the red "God Is Love" shirt from Placebo's first tour. JC doesn't really think it's fair anymore, given that Lance likes Placebo quite a bit more than Justin does, but Lance hasn't asked yet. Then again, Lance doesn't play Last Will and Testament with them and generally prefers black t-shirts anyway. He tends to pay far too much for them, or at least JC thinks so. However, Lance argues that sometimes one needs to splurge and while JC doesn't like to admit it, Lance's cappuccino machine is one of JC's favorite things in their kitchen-- aside from JC's rice maker, but he found that at a tag sale. JC is very fond of tag sales.

JC is also highly fond of elaborate pre-show rituals. He has to go to weather.com and check the hour by hour forecast to make sure they all dress appropriately. He has to change into a clean pair of underwear, floss, brush his teeth, and his socks should be yellow. Or, if all the yellow ones are dirty, something argyle.

They get to the Mop Head show early (or the Mop Head and five more mediocre bands show), because Lance had a shitty day and wants to get some drinking accomplished before things start up. And one needs to mingle and accomplish appropriate amounts of networking at these things. Joey does not come with, he's there early tabling. [NARAL](http://www.massnaral.org/) is trying to get local pharmacies to stock emergency contraception, Joey has [petitions](http://www.massnaral.org/what_we_do/Gain_access_files/pharmacy_petition.htm).

He's also got bumper stickers, which seem to be more popular, but who doesn't want something that's _free with ticket stub_? Justin wants one too, but Joey's running out and "good god, Justin already has, like, twenty. So what the hell?" Justin copes with his loss, Britney appears with a corner for them to lurk in and watch people from, and Lance sends Justin to find alcohol.

They're dissecting a particularly horrid attempt at platinum blond and the Marilyn Monroe look, when a voice pipes in from JC's right saying, "that's my sister you assholes" and JC jumps.

It's Chris, looking pissed. JC turns red and starts to panic-- he really likes his haircut-- when Lance unfolds from the wall, one eyebrow raised, with an "oh, good. Then you can do us all a favor and intervene. And while we're at it? Capri pants are not her best fashion choice either."

At this point Chris is twinkling a bit more at them and JC's feeling a little less nervous. He thinks.

"Oh, really?" Chris twists towards Lance, "What would you recommend? Because I feel strongly that tapered blue jeans and high heels really need to be taken out of the eighties and reintroduced. Preferably with the perm and the side ponytail."

"Well, yes. But the power of that image might be a bit overwhelming all at once for the mere mortal. Perhaps we just start slowly with the stone washed denim and work from there?"

"True, true. Genius takes time. And by the way JC, that is not, in fact, my sister. So please stop looking so damn nervous."

JC grins and shakes his hair back. "That was not cool. I thought I'd lost my new hair genius for a moment there."

"Well, if you promise _only_ to refer to me as The Hair Genius from now on, I'll take you back. That better?"

It is.

Justin returns with beer and grins when he sees Chris. "Hey, cool. Did you meet everyone? Did you sign the petition?"

"Of course. And yes, I've met everyone except this well spoken young gentleman leaning in the corner. He shares my views on the future of fashion so we really should exchange business cards already."

Lance rolls his eyes, but also pats at his jacket pockets. "It's Lance. I don't seem to have my cards on me." He looks towards Justin, "where's my beer?"

"Oh. Ooops?"

"Fucker."

"Here here, take mine. I'll get another one. Chris?"

"I'll come with."

 

By now Britney's looking antsy. She's usually greeted pre-show by Wade, the latest in her lead singer eveningwear, but there's been no appearance as of yet. Since half the appeal of dating a lead singer is being seen with him, she's a bit distressed. JC thinks Wade is a dolt and he's told Britney so, frequently, but she gets something from it so she seems to be sticking with him for now.

Chris, however, proves a marvelous distraction and there is serious bonding activity taking place. JC hasn't seen Lance flirt in ages and Justin's in great need of a good punk role model so all in all JC is quite pleased. He loves Justin to pieces but helping him acclimate to high school, college, and the Boston/[JP](http://www.cityofboston.gov/neighborhoods/neighborhoods.asp?id=5&image1.x=112&image1.y=10) madhouse was one thing. Forsaking brit-pop completely for a strict punk diet is another. JC does not approve of the mosh pit. Then again, he's taught Justin well and he doesn't much care for it either. However, some do and they are frequently in-effect at the shows that Justin drags him to.

Joey gets relieved from repro-rights duty for a bit and wanders over to join them. He's in his lucky t-shirt, which is green and says "This Is What A Feminist Looks Like" across the front. Chris loves it, wants one, and confesses he's here more to support the cause than "to see fucking Mop Head. Because, what the hell is with that name?"

Justin laughs. "Man, do you read that website? _The Unseen_? We are, like, fixated on this site. It's like, all these essays? Rants? Last week's rant was," here he pauses to insert air quotes, "an in-depth look at the possible reasons why one might entitle a band Mop Head. And several further reasons why their popularity is disturbing."

JC grins, "oh, man. Britney, when I read the one about the groupies--"

"Shut. Up." Britney hits him, "I am no groupie. I only sleep with lead singers. No drummer gets his paws near these breasts, thank you very much. However, my personal favorite was the possibility that the mop head was a possible symbol of class warfare and the mistreatment of janitors."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Lance snorts and brushes at something on his sleeve. "I don't know who writes those things, but they clearly have too much time on their--"

"Lance, stop sulking." JC turns to Chris, "he's just miffed because he wanted to start his own little website commentary here, but everybody was already reading this one when he arrived."

"Aww," Chris grins. "Want me to beat them up for you? Put them out of business and all that?"

"What," Lance raises and eyebrow, "using your numerous underground mafia-type connections?"

"Mmm, yes. I think we could show this little website what's what. Make some room to let your little light shine."

Lance frowns, "I wouldn't-- I just don't understand what y'all see in them. Half the time it's all that stupid punk, wanna-be anarchist, 'Break it down! Everything sucks!' mentality."

"Lance," Joey intervenes, "yes, they're critical, but I think I've seen anarchy covered, like, once."

"Okay, whatever," Lance rubs at his elbow. "Beyond that, would it kill them to stop bashing on [BU](http://www.bu.edu) all the time? I mean, Boston University students are not responsible for the demise of the city and/or the entire [Allston](http://www.cityofboston.gov/neighborhoods/neighborhoods.asp?id=20&image1.x=105&image1.y=0)/[Brighton](http://www.cityofboston.gov/neighborhoods/neighborhoods.asp?id=26&image1.x=90&image1.y=7) area."

"Oh Lance," Britney rolls her eyes.

"Please," Chris cuts in, "just admit it already. You _know_ BU is a vast secret society spreading their baseball cap and stretchy black pants wearing minions across the land."

"You know what I think? I think this is some bitter, middle aged, nerd that needs to get laid and wasn't smart enough to get into BU. Bitter after years at [Suffolk University](http://www.suffolk.edu/)."

"What the hell Lance?" Britney is glaring at him now. "There's nothing wrong with Suffolk. There's nothing wrong with any school fuck you very much.

"And honey, I love you to pieces, but this little mentality is just what several of those stupid columns were talking about. People looking down on each other over money and being catty snobs. And I know you baby. We wouldn't mingle in your presence if you were that kind of catty snob."

JC puts a hand on Britney's shoulder and looks at Lance. "Lance?" He keeps his eyes wide. "If what Chris says is true, if I find baseball caps and cargo pants hidden in our apartment? We're staging and intervention an intervention. We'll sic Justin on you."

"Hey!" Justin glares at JC. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chris is looking both annoyed and amused. "Actually, I don't exactly put up billboards, but at this point in the conversation I should probably tell you that website's mine. I do quite a bit of writing, when I'm not focusing on my illustrious career as a hair genius."

JC's already laughing partway through Chris's confession, watching Justin glowing like he's met Patti Smith, saying "Really? Really?" And Lance's jaw actually, literally, dropping with a _plonk_. Lance is blushing.

Happily, Joey manages to intervene. "Ignore Lance. He's questioning his place in the universe. That and his website was all popular in high school and now he's in need of a new audience. The rest of us, however, read it faithfully every week and frequently print copies for the refrigerator."

Justin peers at Chris. "I always wondered what you looked like. Hmm," he reaches out and shifts Chris to the left. "It's like actually seeing an NPR reporter or something. You're different than what I pictured."

"How so?"

"I don't know..."

"Short," Lance interrupts. JC notices he's stopped twinkling.

Chris starts tapping his foot. "Didn't your momma tell you it's not nice to make fun of people who are different?"

"Children, children," Joey intervenes again, "make nice."

Lance leans back against the wall. "Chris? Just wondering. Isn't it a bit disingenuous to come to a Mop Head concert after spending a whole column insulting them and their fans? Aren't you doing exactly what you preach against?"

JC shifts in his seat. Chris looks sharp, his foot is tapping faster. He also looks like he's going to pounce. Or purr. JC can't quite tell, which makes him twitchy.

But then Chris looks sideways at him and then at Justin and just smiles. "I guess that's something for others to wrestle with. I like to think supporting a political goal is worth some slight personal discomfort, but that's just my humble opinion. Perhaps I'll write a column addressing my possible fall from grace."

"Hey, Britney," Justin hits her arm. "Shouldn't you be defending your boy's honor or something? If you don't watch out Mop Head's going to be in the 'What's Not' column and you'll drop scene points."

"I like to think my boys can handle themselves. Maybe the criticism is good for them."

"Hey, Chris," Joey laughs, "you're helping them to evolve man."

Chris laughs and looks sideways at Lance. "It's all in a days work baby."

 

Later, towards the end of the show, Justin, JC, and Chris head towards the bar for water. Britney stays behind and keeps Joey company on NARAL duty. Justin mentions Lance, and JC looks embarrassed, but Chris waves his hand and dismisses it. At the end of the evening Britney disappears to find Wade. JC and Lance sit side by side on the curb waiting for Joey and Justin to finish packing up the table and JC tries very very hard to pretend he doesn't hear when Chris places a hand on Lance's shoulder, leans into his ear, and tells Lance, "Honey, you should make it a personal policy to drop the world disingenuous into as many of your sentences as possible. As your gift to the world."

He also tries really really hard not to see Chris pass Lance a piece of paper and hear Chris add "my card."

The next column of _The Unseen_ focuses on pre-concert banter and how good scene-sters everywhere should really be focusing their energy on political change and personal growth, rather than sniping on others choice of dress. Because, really, in a scene where individuality is supposed to be encouraged, isn't it rather disingenuous to shun someone for their capri pants? No matter how hideous?


	2. Part Two (Chapters 6-8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooodles of thanks to Katie for the beta, the plotting, the everything. This story wouldn't exist without her.

 

 

 _"but this feelings still gonna linger on  
until I know everything I need to know now"_  
\-- "You're Pretty Good Looking (For A Girl)," The White Stripes

 

 

 **Chapter 6: _Pepperoni is So 1980's_**

It's a Wednesday and when JC wakes up, walks outside, and nearly gets mowed over by a green VW bug, he decides he's going to spend the day being pissy. This is also after he's left the apartment _sans_ coffee, because they're out, and _sans_ music, because the batteries in his discman are dead.

He's late to the bookstore, but gets it open almost on time and no one is waiting so he figures it's okay. Justin calls and listens to JC whine for a bit, which, JC will admit, makes him feel better anyway. But then Justin says he has to go and JC is bored again. And still hungry.

Thirty-eight minutes later JC is ringing up a book on crystals and aura management-- which he hates on principle, because the author came and did a signing and made him fetch her a second soy latte because her first one was too cold-- when the door chimes and in sails Justin bearing Tupperware and a you-know-you-love-me grin. He's brought waffles. Waffles and a little container of maple syrup. Real maple syrup, utensils, and a napkin.

"Okay, I would have stopped for batteries too, but that freaky red headed girl was working at the c-store and she keeps trying to get me to grab coffee with her and she's freaky," Justin shudders. "In a not good way, okay?"

JC smiles, mouth full of waffle, "yup."

"You like?"

"Yup."

"They taste weird to you at all?"

"Uh..."

"They taste like normal waffles right?"

Oh lord. JC rolls his eyes, "yes Justin. They taste just like normal, regular waffles. As do all your cookies, pancakes and muffins. As did the special chocolate bundt cake you made for Joey's birthday, which was--"

"It was low-fat too."

"Yes," JC smirks, "which was, according to rumor, low-fat too."

"Hey," Justin frowns, "don't act like that. I'm just trying to point out that eating vegan food does not require a sacrifice in flavor and texture."

"Yes Justin. The waffles are fluffy and good. Nutritious and delicious. Thank you." JC toasts at Justin with a forkful of waffle. "I see the error of my assumptions and I will never again think that vegan waffles are inferior to the original milk utilizing recipe."

Justin sticks out his tongue. "I'm just pointing it out. You are pissy this morning."

"Yes," JC grins, "just for a change. Twit. Go work on Joey. I'm not giving up milk. And can I please point out that I'm the vegetarian that got you to be a vegetarian in like, freaking, ninth grade?"

"Joey. Right," Just rolls his eyes. "That boy will not budge. At all. And I'm ignoring the last part of your comment, but I think it was the tenth grade and not the ninth."

"Mmm." JC turns away to ring up a pile of postcards, a book of riot grrl poetry, and two bookmarks.

"You're still coming to Britney's tomorrow night, right?"

"Yeah," JC hands off the receipt and turns back towards Justin. "I don't know if I'll stay too late though."

"You always say that, man."

"Yeah, well, covering my ass. Her parties get weird sometimes. Besides, Lance is all pissy and wound up this week. Boys gonna be looking for some lovin'."

"Whatever man. I'm going to be there by eleven and I expect you to show."

"Or what? You'll force soy milk on me?"

"Maybe, you freak cow drinker."

"Freak rice drinker."

"Okay, what? That's not even an insult JC."

JC waves his hand at Justin, "give me a break child, the brain is slow this morning."

"Yeah. Whatever," Justin frowns. "You've been out of it for weeks now. I think your family fucked you over."

"No, no. No introspection today. That visit was, like, three weeks ago. And it was fun, really. I'm just tired."

"Okay. Well, then I want to see you all dazzled up tomorrow night. We'll both find some nice bodies to take home and play with."

"Eh. Whatever," JC shrugs. "I'll settle for some nice drunken conversation. Chris coming?"

"I think so. I've called and left detailed messages. When I saw him last week he said he'd like to torment Lance with his presence some more."

"Ooo. Fun, fun, fun."

Justin grins back, "oh yes."

"But," JC looks sternly at Justin, "don't forget. Lance does not like punks. Not one bit."

"Yup. And waking up naked with them after parties? Just a nasty alcohol induced coincidence."

JC nods, "yes. I'm glad we're clear on this."

 

Justin is bored and avoiding his apartment. JC is fed, needs to restock shelves, and a little more cheerful. So Justin sits at the counter and reads while JC plays with heavy boxes. Justin is two-thirds of the way through [_Fast Food Nation_](http://www.mcspotlight.org/media/books/schlosser.html), which he stole from Joey, and he's feeling the need to have some sit and read time. JC's known Justin long enough to know that sit-and-read time is followed by the pause-and-think period, which is quickly followed by and interspersed with the long-speeches-and-heavy-debating period. Justin likes to process. So, all in all, JC isn't surprised to come back to the sales counter and find Justin tapping at his book and staring out the shop window.

Justin rubs at his eyebrow, he looks up at JC. "The thing is man, it's about respect. No, I'm not going to force you to give up beef dinners and leather wallets. I _respect_ that a number of people fail to understand why killing an animal might not be something I want to do. However. I think they need to _respect_ my right to demand vegetarian shoe options. Or, fucking Jacob, he needs to _respect_ my right to refuse to touch his moldy dishes. And then he needs to fucking clean them, within a week."

"Justin, is there still a sauce pan with moldy spaghetti in it? Is it still on your stove?"

"No no, this is about the moldy pepperoni pizza in the fridge. I mean, good lord JC, who eats pepperoni these days? I mean, do you want to know that person? Okay, and I'm pissy because a fucking rat _ran_ across my feet last night when I was walking home."

JC winces, "I hate that. So gross."

"Dude, I screamed. I mean, I hit a high note and everything. Fucking [Fenway](http://www.cityofboston.gov/neighborhoods/neighborhoods.asp?id=13&image1.x=111&image1.y=7)."

"Yeah."

"It's a pit JC. A fucking pit."

"Everybody has an I-slummed-it-in-Fenway story though, honey. You're having your growth experience right now. Think of the photos."

"Dude. I've been having this fucking growth experience for almost two years now, thank you very much. Fuck. I want to move. Screw the photos." Justin kicks at the wall. "Hey, I've got to photograph next Thursday, I think. You want to be my bitch and come with?"

JC grins. "No one messes with the camera bag when I'm around."

"Yes, it's the fierceness. You're a force to be reckoned with."

"Hey, I think I'll steal Lance's boots with the buckles and wear all black this time."

"Dude, if you break out a beret and cloves, I can't know you."

"Justin, you too had a cloves phase. Many choose never to leave the cloves phase. Don't be snotty."

"Yes, but, I did it and so can they."

"You started wearing more metal spiky things," JC raises an eyebrow.

"That too," Justin nods. "And smoking things other than cloves."

"Mmm, yes. I wonder if there'll be any of that at the party."

"Pot?" Justin smiles, "rather old school isn't it?"

"I like to think of myself as retro, thank you. Besides, I prefer my highs slightly less risky and coke induced."

"Sprung from the earth, not from the lab. Yadda, yadda." Justin laughs, "yes, this speech has been given before."

"And learned well, we hope." JC looks at him hard.

"Yes, yes. Dude, do I look like I want to be Wade?"

"I'm sorry, I know. You have to make your own choices and you have to live your life and telling you something means nothing, really. I mean it does, I know it does, because you know you're, like, my brother, but ultimately it has to come from you. And that's cool, I respect that and I respect you and you need to live your life. But," JC frowns, "there are some really fucked up kids out there and I don't get the whole hard drugs thing and I worry and you're--"

"JC. JC, JC." Justin puts his hand over JC's mouth. "Stop, you nut. We're cool, you're cool, you freak. Go work and drink your milk and eat your cheese or whatever. No, don't. No! And don't tell Joey I said you could drink milk. Fuck. I'm leaving, okay, I'm getting you that tofu-cheese lasagna next and you will love it!"

"Umm. Well, that's not hard considering that I already like tofu-cheese on lasagna. Well, sometimes. It depends. I just like regular veggie lasagna better."

"Okay, whatever," Justin looks around for his bag. "You're resisting now, but you'll give in."

JC rolls his eyes, "fuck off. Will you leave? Some people are trying to work here. Don't you have school or classes or something?"

"It's summer JC," Justin gestures towards the window. "I did promise Britney I'd find her for lunch though, so I'll be leaving you now."

"Smooches. Give her ass a slap for me."

"Yeah, right, whatever."

Justin leaves his Tupperware behind, with JC swearing upon his mother's mother's grave and god and [Michael Moore](http://www.michaelmoore.com)'s sense of humor that he'll wash and return them promptly. Then he just waits for Justin to turn the corner and gets back to dusting shelves.

 

 

 **Chapter 7: _International Peanut Butter Appreciation Day_**

The next afternoon JC goes half grocery shopping. This involves him arriving at [Harvest Co-op](http://www.harvest.coop/) and finding Joey to see if he's got anything good stashed away for them. Joey is stacking the red lettuce and only has three dented cans of minestrone soup and another two cans of vegetable broth stashed away, but JC also gets the ever-eaten Boca Burgers, plain yogurt, noodles, and the co-op discount. That plus a few tomatoes, and maybe a zucchini should last him for a bit.

Lance always leaves his laptop somewhere that JC can find it, so after JC's put groceries away and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he digs out the laptop to check his email. JC feels that peanut butter gets a bad rap and wishes the world would embrace the goodness, but he settles for licking his fingers and starting up the computer.

There's an email from Justin. The subject header says "Just say NO... To Milk!" Justin has, apparently, transcribed several paragraphs from _Fast Food Nation_ on dairy cattle and how they're sent off to slaughter the most unhealthy of all the cows to get chopped. JC refuses to purchase anything but organic milk to begin with, but Justin has added a paragraph on how, "only partial support still puts money into the system and contributes to the exploitation. And how can you actually be sure it's really truly organic milk anyway?"

This is, actually, a valid point, so JC responds with a, "yes, see, here's where Lance needs to start a business. We set up something like a 'stamp of approval' were we go to these farms and make sure it's kosher. Then they get to say that it's organic. That I can get behind. But, I'm still putting a slice of cheese on my veggie burger tonight!"

There's also a "Greetings From The South" email from Nick. Which is very cool, because JC quite likes to get updates from the life o'Nick. The first time Nick emailed it was all rather "hey, good to see you, cool talking to you at the wedding..." But then JC shot back with "Nick! What's this I hear about Tony, University Cops, and public indecency charges? I thought I gave you orders!" So now JC tends to hear from Nick every few days at least.

It's cute, he's cute, JC is amused, and Tony, as always, has good taste in friends. Not that JC didn't know Nick before or anything, just, he grew some.

This time JC gets Thoughtful and Life Evaluating Nick. Or possibly Frustrated and Stir Crazy Nick, as the email begins "I Have Got To Get Out of This House!!!! (Nick Carter evaluates his life plan.)"

JC remembers being in high school when Nick came back to town. When they did the spring art show, Nick read a poem about bugs, for his brother, and a sestina about... something. JC can't remember what, but he remembers the sestina bit, because he's still not really sure what that is. JC just remembers that Nick was kind of quiet and he read early in the night because he had to leave early.

Now Nick is talking about degrees and departments and checking in with advisors.

>   
> _I know there are things to test out and try, I know maybe an internship or something might help, but I'm really tired. I don't know, I can't think straight here, there's all this static. Kerri says she'll help me look for an apartment, Mom is freaking because I crashed at their place again the other night. I feel twelve or something. I'm not twelve. I'm not whining, I just wish moving out of a house wasn't a world disaster in need of a PR firm and talking points or something._   
> 

JC eats more PB&J (strawberry rhubarb jelly, so good) and clatters off a response. This is cool, this is all very interestingly cool, because JC is having ideas and that's always fun.

>   
> _Nick. Okay, think big here. You're going to move, right? Have you thought about going somewhere else? What about Boston? I mean, maybe a really big switch is what would be good for you. And you could look for a job here, or just come up and temp for goodness sakes, and I bet I could help out with you finding a place and stuff. I'm sure I could. Call me, we'll plot things. Take deep breaths and all that, we'll do in-house PR and formulate kick-ass talking points._   
> 

JC checks his email Action Alerts. [HRC](http://www.hrc.org/) is trying to get the state leg to [stop a ballot question](http://www.hrc.org/familynet/newsstand.asp?ID=1601) on gay marriages from becoming a ballot question. JC writes a letter to his representative and another to the governor, just in case, and then reads through the list of upcoming Mophead shows Britney has sent him. Britney wants to know, "yer coming right? no. you are. justin's told me he's threatened you with tofu and shit. and you aren't leaving early you freak, you love my parties, so shut it."

If JC is going to be out until the crack of dawn he's going to need a nap. Besides, his momma always insisted that naps were good for him and, on some things, you follow your momma's advice. And on that note of universal truth, JC sleeps.

 

 

 **Chapter 8: _In Which the Opinions of Lansten in No Way Indicate the Opinions of the Author_**

There is intense debate in _la casa de_ JC and Lance. JC thinks the black v-neck and navy [Dickies](http://www.dickies.com/) are the choice ensemble for the evening. Lance, however, feels strongly that mixing navy and black is still a questionable fashion choice, even in the wild and rebellious times of the new millennium.

"White after Labor Day is one thing JC. That's fighting the system. Black and _navy_?" Lance looks appalled. "That's totally and completely different. That's aesthetics. No, that's against the laws of nature."

JC doesn't see what the problem is, considering that, "well, people wear black shirts with blue jeans. Right? They do it all the time. And blue jeans are navy, or varying shades of blue. So, what the fuck?" However, at this point JC knows that the entire evening can become a reasoning on why denim is a de facto color neutral fabric and not navy, despite appearances. He can agree however, that he looks pretty damn good in the one clean pair of jeans that he has. And that they fall lower on his hips and show off his belt quite nicely, but in an unplanned kind of way. So he circumvents all fashion debate with Lance and goes with the denim. He wears plaid socks to up his good party karma.

 

Britney's done up the apartment with Christmas lights from floor to ceiling. It's a lotta light. When they arrive, she cracks up at Lance's immediate post-room-scan mouth wrinkle, puts her finger on his lips and says, sternly, "Lance, don't even say it. They may be party cliche, but they're also bright and sparkly. Besides," here she inserts a dramatic pause, "it's mah party and I'll light if I want too."

Lance rolls his eyes, looks to the side and coughs.

"Okay, yes, yes. I admit it," Britney laughs. "I had that waiting for you. Freak."

Lance raises an eyebrow.

"Look, there will be no mocking of the girl providing the booze." Britney gestures towards the hall, "off with you. Be free, get wasted. Get laid!" Britney turns and looks behind them, "Wade!"

At the sound of the name, JC and Lance are suddenly more than willing to move into the apartment. JC mutters, "fucking tool" first though, just so the opinion is still registered by the gods. He spots Justin fairly quickly. Justin is half talking with Joey in a corner and half checking out the room. Joey is leaning down and going through Britney's records.

Lance manages to get them through the pile of people around the sofa and Justin looks up again when they get closer. "Hey!" He looks back down, "The Supremes? No Joey, it's too early for that. Go with something bouncier."

"Dude," Joey looks up at Justin, "there's a limit to the bounciness here. Unless we go punk and Britney may not love us for that."

"Lance," Justin elbows him, "go ask her if she minds punk."

"Why am I always the lackey," Lance frowns.

"She's known you longer," Justin shrugs, "go."

Lance throws Justin what JC would consider a scathing glance, but he does turn and depart.

JC pokes Justin in the shoulder, "you been here long?"

"Barely. Just a half an hour maybe. Fucking Jacob came and brought his little posse along for the ride."

"Um, why?" JC frowns.

"I'm an ass. He got all pushy and shit. And really what do I say? 'No roommate, you are not permitted to attend the party. No, even though the flyer says bring your friends.'" Justin frowns, "not that he is my friend, but."

"Shit," Joey stands up and pushes his hand through his hair. "We don't have to go home with them do we?"

"Eh," Justin shrugs. "Whatever, I doubt it."

Lance comes back eating potato chips, he offers his handful to the group.

"Well?" Justin looks at him.

Lance shrugs, "well what? She was talking with Wade, so I got chips. I mean--"

"Fellows!" Britney's voice comes at them from across the room. "I found this little one wandering outside. Think you can entertain him for me?"

JC can't see Britney from his angle, but he takes one look at Justin's grin and thinks he can make a wild guess at who is with her.

Joey hits Lance in the shoulder, "play nice young man." That pretty much confirms it.

Chris greets them with a loud, " _compadres_!" and a stern glance. "Why are only two of you holding cups?"

Which is, really, an excellent point. A group trek is made to the kitchen.

 

Chris pours out drinks and looks over at JC. "Um, not to be rude or anything, but the Christmas lights? Is her apartment always this... this..." He gestures at the air with his hand, "twinkly?"

"Twinkly?" Lance raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, twinkly. What," Chris crosses his arms, "would you consider ´twinkly' an inaccurate description?"

Lance stares back. "No. There is usually a bit less of the." He pauses and JC can hear the air quotes. "Twinkliness. Although, to be honest, she does tend to have at least one strand of lights present and on in the apartment at all times."

"Well one, one is all, whatever. Two even, I might expect. I mean, there are many effective uses for the lights. This just might be a bit... fire hazardous for everyday use."

Joey smiles, "I kind of like it. Then again, you two? Very very picky bastards."

Chris coughs, "I prefer discerning."

"I'm not picky," Lance rolls his eyes, "I just have standards. Whatever, subject change please."

Justin shoots JC a look. "So. Lance," he coughs, "Jacob's here."

"Oh, fuck you." Lance stands up straighter and glares, "Justin, what the hell?"

"Hey, just thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Fuck you. Fuck. Dude, Joey, you couldn't get rid of him?"

Joey shrugs, "hey, don't drag me into this. You hooked up with him, not me."

"I was, I would like to repeat for the millionth time," he shoots Chris a look, "extremely drunk and in a bad place that evening. Uch," Lance shudders.

Chris is looking at Joey and Lance expectantly, "yes? Story? Tell?"

Justin begins, "well--"

"No. _Nyet_ ," Lance interrupts. "There ain't nothing to tell here."

"Ha!" Justin yells and points, "your blushing says you lie!"

"Justin, I swear, there may be alcohol in this cup, but I can always refill it after I throw it at you."

"Lance, you suck." Justin frowns, "it's a good story."

JC puts his hand on Lance's shoulder. "Justin, stop." He looks at Joey.

Joey, through his brilliant use of telepathy, reads JC's eye contact, shoulder twitch, chin tilt and immediately says, "hey, Lance, lets go and bug Britney." He then refuses to wait for an answer and removes Lance from the room.

JC frowns at Justin, "you can't keep bringing that shit up."

"Whatever, it's funny man. Why does he have to be a dork about it?"

Chris raises his eyebrow, "ahh little Justin, some do not like to kiss and tell. Hey, after me, some are afraid to."

Justin frowns at him, the lower lip definitely sticks out.

"Hey! Hey! No, none of that!" Chris laughs. "Let's follow their example and go and mock people we don't know and can't damage too severely, yes?"

"I thought you didn't believe in that man. I though it was disingenuous and we needed to focus on personal growth and development."

"Justin!" Chris smiles and wraps his arm around Justin's shoulder. "You've been reading the column!"

"Well, duh."

"How could he not," JC interrupts, pushing off the wall with his foot, "with Lance preaching about egotistical writers and people stealing his words?"

"Oh he did, did he?" Chris raises one eyebrow, "I wasn't aware that we had copyrights on words now."

Justin shrugs, "well--"

"No, wait. We can do that. I'll go with that," Chris nods. "Does this mean Lance can be a super corporation and write me cease and desist letters? Because I'd love to engage in some good, old fashioned, letter writing. I'd break out the bond paper and everything."

"Dude. What the hell are you talking about?" JC reaches out and checks Chris's cup.

"Oh whatever," Chris pulls his cup back. "Don't appreciate the beauty of fine, watermarked paper. The night is young baby, we need to dance!"

 

JC can dance with the best of them, but he abstains and just watches while Justin yanks Britney away from Joey and onto the dance floor. They attempt to do the twist. Lance laughs at them, hands Joey his cup, and does it better until he sees Chris staring at his ass, but Joey distracts him with pretzels, and brings JC a handful too, so it's all good through record sides A and B. However, when side B runs out, Wade wanders over to the milk crates and begins picking through records.

JC looks up to see Chris and Justin wandering over, he looks at Justin, "I think a smoking section needs to be established."

"Mmm, yes," Justin licks his lips, "I could go for that. Back porch?"

"Yeah," JC looks at Joey, "please tell me you brought your lighter, because mine is dead."

"Forget him," Lance reaches into his pocket and pulls one out. "Here, but don't loose it or anything."

Joey throws JC a look and turns back to Lance, "since when do you have lighters?"

"Since whenever," Lance shrugs. "Y'all go smoke," he looks over at Chris. "I'm not in the mood yet."

JC hits Justin on the hip and reaches his arms up. Justin rolls his eyes, "lazy bugger," and pulls JC up off the couch.

 

The back porch is not actually a back porch, it's the landing on the fire escape. But it works very well for keeping certain activities from the eyes of the general public, and cheap bastards that didn't chip in. JC climbs out the window first and nabs the milk crate. Joey growls a bit and whines and says JC planned it. JC just grins back, "you betcha." Chris covers his ears, declares he's Switzerland and that milk crates are for losers anyway. Which means Justin refuses to acknowledge he knows any of them, "until you act like 15 year olds, at least." Less than twenty minutes later, JC is trying to pass what's left of the joint over to Justin and Justin is frowning down at it and raising his eyebrows.

"Dude, you, and only you, may be able to get more out of that. However as I don't have the can-squeeze-water-from-a-stone gene, I don't think I could. Even if I had tweezers. Which I don't."

JC frowns and looks around, "anyone?"

"It's dead JC, let it die."

Chris chuckles, "its soul needs to pass on, baby. Don't make the ash be all in limbo."

JC frowns, but sometimes you just have to let these things go. He looks through the window into the party. Lance is talking with someone, his arms are flopping around and he's standing very very straight. He's probably arguing with them. Lance shifts left for a moment and JC gets to see the other boy. He's only got a mini-mo, but the hair is dyed black and there's a tight camo t-shirt. Clearly, Lance is settling in for the evening.

"Ha," JC nudges Justin. "Lance found a friend for the night."

"Oh, this I've got to see." Justin leans over and looks in. "Oh yes," he nods, "pree-dictable as fuck."

Chris looks at the two of them, "what?" then through the window. He rolls his eyes. "I know that kid. He's, like, ridiculously dumb. I had to cut his hair once and he tried to tell me that feminism was over. Didn't give a shit about the rest of the world either." Chris rubs at his neck, "beyond that, the bastard didn't tip me."

"Oh, that's not cool." Joey frowns and looks in again, "well, he's pretty I guess. Lance'll have a night of it and move on."

Justin looks at Chris, "Lance has punk issues. It's like, his kink."

"Justin, that's not entirely..." JC bites his lip. "Okay it's kinda true, but no fair giving away his weaknesses." JC tilts his head towards Chris, "not all of us have pure motives here."

"Hey!" Chris hits JC's shoulder. "I'll have you know that my motives are very very pure. The purest!"

"Mmmm, sure."

"Whatever," Justin shakes his head. "Chris, I say go for it, exploit the weaknesses. He wouldn't have it as a freaking weakness if he'd just admit liking the safety pin look, or go punk, or do whatever, instead of hating on us, pretending I'm some grand exception to punks so he can know me, and then ruthlessly sleeping with every rainbow flavored punk in the Boston area."

"Every punk?" Joey raises an eyebrow, "Justin?"

"Okay okay, no, not all of us. But you can't be all, 'they suck, they're lame' and then go and suck them into your web with big vocab words. That's, like, exploitation." Justin laughs and puts his hand on his hip. "Look, I'm taking a moral stance here!"

"Fear not little Justin," Chris puts his hand on his heart, "I will remain strong. He hasn't attacked me yet!"

"Yet!" Joey laughs. "And you're sulking over it too. Whatever, he so got you."

"He lured you," Justin nods, "there was serious vocab dropping."

"Mmm," Chris looks back towards the window. "I admit nothing."

Joey leans back against the railing, "subject change. Justin, whatever happened to your 'Lets Get JC Laid' mission for the evening?"

"Yeah," Justin looks over to JC. "Why are you out here? Get in there and flirt!"

JC looks down at his left sneaker. "I'm not really. I don't know, I just don't really feel like it. Nothing was really calling my name, you know?"

"Mmm." Justin shoots Joey a look.

"What?" JC glares at the two of them. "I saw that."

Justin blinks at him, "what?"

"Oh whatever kid," Chris laughs at Justin. "You're as subtle as a lime green mohawk.

Justin shrugs, "You email that boy a lot, JC."

"Oh." JC looks back down, checks his other shoe. "No, it's not like that. Nick is really cool though. Did I tell you he wants to leave home? Don't you think it would be cool if he came here?"

Joey rolls his eyes and shoots Justin a look back.

JC ignores it. "Seriously you dorks. His family is, like, wacky. And he's cool. We totally need to adopt him."

Justin nods, "that would be cool. I can use another fierce bodyguard for the camera bag."

"Exactly," JC grins. "But, hey! I'm fierce too."

"Yes, yes," Justin rolls his eyes. "You are. But, god, no black beret."

"Justin, fuck off with the beret. It was a joke."

"Yeah. So you claim now!"

JC frowns, "I'm going to being sulking in ten seconds. Ten... Nine... Eight..."

"No no," Justin waves his arms at JC. "I apologize, I apologize. Damn." He stands up, "guys. My mouth is, like, foul and in need of water."

Chris grimaces, "yes, I'm with you. I'll take beer though."

Justin looks at Joey and JC, "you coming?"

JC hops up, "yeah, might as well."

Joey yawns, "fuck I'm sleepy. I might take off soon guys."

"No no no," Chris taps his foot. "None of that. We'll wake you up. And fuck this crap music, lets take over the stereo."

 

Thirty minutes later Chris has somehow not pissed anyone off by turning off Mophead and putting on Michael Jackson. He's also managing to crack a smile out of Lance by singing along and the high notes with Michael. However, Lance's Punk O'the Evening gets insistent. Lance moves him into the front hallway, he gives JC a wave with one hand, the other sliding down under the boy's studded belt, and they go wherever they'll go. JC assumes Lance will take him back to the apartment.

JC's watching the doorway to see if they leave, but "Thriller" comes on. Wade is clearly sulking in a corner with Britney, only there are too many Christmas lights on the wall, so he can't lean against it while suffering through Michael. JC is amused by this, but he wouldn't tell Britney so in the morning. JC can do whole sections of the zombie dance from the "Thriller" video and Joey can fake anything, so life is good. Life gets even better when some boy in a baseball jersey begins dancing closer and closer to JC. He's a redhead, which JC has a weakness for, and when JC finally remembers to read the boy's shirt it says "I Live In Boston and the Red Sox Still Suck", which pretty much finalizes the deal. JC puts his hand on the boy's hip and pulls him a little closer. JC makes sure Justin sees it, just so he knows he's wrong.

When they call the cab at 4:17, JC doesn't offer to take the boy home, but he does keep the number and promise to call at some point. They walk out to the front of the apartment building to wait and Justin lights a cigarette.

"JC, fuck, where did he go?" Justin looks around. "I was on a mission. You were supposed to get laid this evening."

"There is too much alcohol in my body for me to even think about that right now." JC looks at Justin and holds out his hand, "let me get some of that. I take it you're crashing at my place tonight?"

Justin passes the cigarette over. "Britney dragged Wade into the bedroom and closed the door, man. Don't make me stay and listen to that."

Joey groans from behind them on the doorstep, "dude. That kid is fucked up. I went to use the bathroom tonight and, I swear to god, he and your stupid roommate were breaking open Dexetrim capsules to snort."

"What the hell?" Justin lights another cigarette. "How the fuck do those two even know each other? No, don't tell me, I really don't want to know."

"Apparently they're both watching their figures," JC laughs. "Stupid fucks." He reaches for his back pocket and checks him wallet. "Um, fellows? You are more than welcome to crash, but I do not have cash for this cab ride. Shit."

Justin rolls his eyes, "I know. Honey, don't worry about it. It's cool."

When the cab finally pulls up, JC's finished the cigarette. He hears Joey gives the driver directions, then sleeps on Justin's shoulder during the ride back.


	3. Part Three (Chapters 9-14)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooodles of thanks to Katie for the betabetabeta and the everything. She's mah lighthouse.

 

 

 _"I get this feeling I'm in motion  
A sudden sense of liberty"_  
\-- "True Faith", New Order

 

 

 **Chapter 9: _Cashew Chili: Learn it, Live it, Love it_**

JC's alarm is set to go off at ten am, but the phone rings at nine fifty-five and does the job. It's Sheila, the boss at Part Time Job Number One. (This would be the paint your own pottery store, provider of many a house warming gift from the discards bin.) She informs JC that there is a pipe leak at said pottery store-- sewage, messy-- and that he won't need to come into work this fine Tuesday morning.

This makes up for the lost five minutes sleep and continues a line of good luck that JC's quite enjoying. Not only was it a holiday weekend, meaning that, 1) JC received time-and-a-half for working at Part Time Job Number Two on Monday. (Number Two would be the bookstore and location of many a Justin visitation.) But that, 2) JC gets a Tuesday off in return for working on Monday. JC interprets this as meaning that the gods have decided to be kind and show their favor unto him... Or however it's worded. While he'd like to think his sparkling wit and radiant personality are to blame, it's also true that he, Lance, and Britney performed general cleaning, repair, and maintenance on the Our Lady of the Perpetual Bathtub the previous Wednesday and things definitely have been going well for JC since then. He rubs her belly as he walks though the living room into the kitchen, just so she continues to feel appreciated. Everyone likes to get their belly rubbed.

 

JC's hungry, but the food in the refrigerator is uninspiring and smelling like ammonia. JC calls in reinforcements.

Joey answers the phone in two rings with a rather lucid, "Hola!" This probably means he was awake. JC decides to risk it and plunges in.

"Look, I don't have to work today, I'm hungry, and Lance is working. Are you hearing the call of discounted food? Because I am, very loudly."

"Hmm," Joey pauses, ponders. "If by discounted food you mean exploiting Lance's kitchen connections, then yes, I might just be hearing the call of discount food. I thought it was the new Coldplay, but I think I might have been wrong."

"Well, good. Because their new album? Not as good as the last one. Now, I'm not dressed, but I can be, quickly. You?"

Plans are made, timelines established and meeting points agreed upon. Arguments are also presented for the new Coldplay album-- because Joey is rather fond of it-- and for Joey being able to decide he likes it, even if JC is disappointed-- because JC tends to project a bit. Feathers are unruffled and the [Orange Line](http://www.mbta.com/traveling_t/schedules_subway_orangeline.asp) is a wonderful and speedy method of transportation which spits them out at Massachusetts Avenue. They're rambling towards Newbury Street by eleven twenty am, conveniently before the lunchtime rush. JC loves it when established timelines work properly.

 

Joey and Lance have an ongoing argument over tuna melts. Joey feels that the ones at the [Other Side Cosmic](http://www.weeklydig.com/?ContentId=1553) are superior, Lance prefers [Trident's](http://www.digitalcity.com/boston/shopping/details.adp?companykey=106528273). JC does have concerns over conflicts of interest, as Lance works at Trident and probably isn't all that unbiased, but JC never pushes to hard on the tuna melt issues when the cashew chili at Trident is So Damn Good.

Lance also feels that Other Side Cosmic looses points due to harsh evening lighting. However, JC typically intervenes at this point to state that lighting really should not impact food, but Lance disagrees. He maintains that, when eating out, environment is as much a part of the meal as the food. And, really, it is pink neon. One might find an argument against that. And the noise. Their pie crust, however, can cancel out all concerns during those crucial moments in life when only decent piecrust with strawberry-rhubarb filling can bring you joy. But then again when is a rule ever absolute?

 

They arrive safely before the lunchtime insanity and Joey insists that JC wait while he looks at magazines and blows a week's pay on the latest [Adbusters](http://www.adbusters.org/). JC picks up [Mother Jones](http://www.motherjones.com) for himself and feels that they've done their part for the cause. This Tuesday's part at least. Someone once said something about even small acts being revolutionary. JC can't remember who, but it's on t-shirts and that's good enough for him.

When JC looks over at the food counter he sees Lance watching them. "Dude," JC nudges Joey, "Lance. Food."

Joey turns, sees Lance, grins, and walks over to him. Lance looks over at a woman at the other end of the counter. Her very aura screams manager, but then again, it could be the nametag.

Lance smiles and says, loudly, "are you ready to be seated?"

They are. Menus are perused and meal choices narrowed and evaluated. Joey expresses great torment over the many eating possibilities and JC wonders about the veggie melts. It's been a while since he ate one here, he can't remember how he felt about the mustard spread. Eventually Lance comes back over and looks at the two of them sternly.

"Look. You know you're just going to order the same things you always order. You know you never eat anything else. So why don't we make this easier on all of us? Just say you want the usual."

JC frowns, he doesn't like being predictable. He rejects predictability. He is not, not, the predictable type.

However, the cashew chili is-- _have you heard?_ \-- So Damn Good.

"Okay," JC sighs, "fine." The things you sacrifice for fabulous taste experiences. He nods at Lance, "I would like to have a cup of your fine chili."

Lance smiles, "and a glass of water with a slice of lemon. And a cup of coffee?"

"Maybe," JC frowns again. "Maybe I want lime in the water today."

"Oooo," Joey interrupts, "what about both?" He hands his menu up to Lance, "breakfast burrito for me please. And I think I'm feeling like tea today. English breakfast I think."

Lance nods. "Alrighty then, I'll be back in a few. Please notice how I'm not commenting on the tea."

 

JC is gesturing wildly when Lance returns. He looks up at Lance, nods, and continues his sentence. "And he can't even go to the world conference? The man is, like, fucking sticking up his middle finger at the United Nations!"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Dude, JC, can we stop talking about this world conference thing for, like, a minute or two, please?" He's carrying a tray with Joey's teapot, teacup and saucer, and JC's coffee and water. The water has a slice of lemon and a slice of lime in it. "And, besides, the conference is finished. Done."

"It's the idea man. The message being sent. We can't just dictate--" JC sighs, "okay, I'm stopping. My addiction to caffeine is stronger than my need to rant."

"Okay then, now I'm commenting." Lance sets down the creamers and the water in the middle of the table. "No coffee for you today Joey? That's unusual. And by unusual, I mean, you've been listening to her tea speech haven't you?"

"Yes, I want to give tea another opportunity in my life. And yes, I'm walking down to see Kelly later this afternoon." Joey sighs, "do I exist to be mocked?"

Lance doesn't even bother to lower his eyebrow. JC chuckles.

"Okay, and yes I'll be stopping at [Tealuxe](http://www.tealuxe.com) to acquire a cup of "Lady Hannah" for her. Shut up! Lower that fucking eyebrow man."

"Kelly is recruiting freshmen today," JC looks over at Lance to explain, "activities fair. The little ones need to be politically involved as well."

Joey frowns, "it's very frustrating for her. You have the supposed freak school of Boston-- okay, big emphasis on supposed-- and the kids don't even want to know about how threatened Choice is. And let's not even go into general awareness around the big issues."

"Whatever happened to that 'No More Prisons' thing? Wasn't that some little Emerson thing?" Lance checks over his shoulder quickly, but the place is still quiet.

Joey shakes his head, "no no, they wish. It's a New York thing, they just claimed they were starting it up here."

"And, whatever," JC snorts into his water, "yeah, like painting a stupid sentence on sidewalks does anything. And when I talked to that kid? He was all, 'yeah yeah, this is just the beginning. We've got, like, a plan to roll out, and everything'." JC stops to cough, "that's what pisses me off. No follow through. I mean--"

"Well, look what I see," a voice comes from behind Lance, "Mr. Joseph Fatone, his _amigo_ JC bitching about apathy, and Lance serving coffee and lookin' pretty. This feels rather familiar." A hand appears on Lance's shoulder to go with the voice, and then there's a face and a person too.

"Holy shit!" Joey pops up and Lance snaps his head around.

"AJ!"

"You fuck!" Lance doesn't shriek, but definitely lets out quite a yelp as he hugs AJ, moves back, looks him up and down, and hugs him again. "I may look pretty and serve coffee, but I can bitch too when I feel the urge!"

"Yes, yes darling," AJ winks, "you definitely can."

At this point, Joey is jumping up and pushing in to say hello as well. JC feels his body standing up, smiling, but he's also running on autopilot. He sits in his head, watching. JC's thinking: 'AJ.' And, 'AJ, interesting.' And, 'AJ, shit.'

So okay, yes, apparently avoidance is your best friend sometimes. Particularly when one of your actual best friends is spazzing out and drugging up and getting kicked out of their apartment. Particularly when you hear they're couch surfing with disreputables, having mental breakdowns, and then suddenly they're getting you out of bed at four am-- after being MIA for fucking weeks, weeks! Yes, avoidance, _rah rah rah_! In that temporary, your therapist would make you discuss this and it's going to hurt more later, kind of way.

However, JC takes a breath, the boy is here. And looking okay? Yes. Breathing? Yes. Looking vaguely happy and healthy? Yes.

JC stands back and waits for a turn, fuck avoidance. He watches as Joey settles for a more reserved hand-shake/back-pound combo instead of a hug and then rolls his eyes. "Straight boy. That is such a Joey hug. AJ, come here and let me look at you."

JC holds AJ at arm's length, "you look good. Much less tired. And--" He touches AJ's cheek, just under the eyes, "you just look rested."

JC's quiet and AJ moves a bit, looks towards Joey briefly. "Um, did you guys order food? You want to sit or are you busy?"

Lance laughs, "of course they're getting food. I'm working aren't I?" He looks around, "there," he points, "there's a bigger table set up by the bench."

Group migration occurs. JC almost leaves the lime wedge behind, but Lance gives him one long look and he takes it along. When they sit down again, Joey rearranges the sugar packets and Lance leaves to get AJ coffee. JC isn't quite sure what to say or ask, but AJ gives out a laugh, or a chuckle, and grimaces.

"Guys. It's cool. We can say the 'R' word." He looks at JC. "I know there's a lot to talk about, but I'm doing okay. Really. I'm feeling more contained. Controlled? Contained."

Joey lifts the lid on his teapot. "Okay, that's good. Really good. I mean, you've been missed a lot. But I hope that things-- or leaving things-- helped." He puts the lid back on the pot and swirls the tea around in his teacup.

Lance comes back with AJ's coffee and extra creamers, because that's how AJ likes it. AJ also likes the pink lighting at Other Side Cosmic, singing karaoke at [The Common Ground](http://www.bostonphoenix.com/listings%5Cmusic/clubs/COMMON_GROUND.html), and the cashew chili. He bought JC his first cup, back before JC knew a Lance well enough to get comp-ed. Other things JC remembers AJ liking? Red nail polish with black tips, chai and rice krispie treats from Starbucks, coke. Not the soft drink.

JC looks around the table, he wants someone else to speak first.

"So," Lance raises an eyebrow at the group. JC's sitting inside on the bench, but Lance moves closer to him and puts a hand on JC's shoulder. "So, okay, I refuse to be a dork and not ask questions. But you know, say something or wave a flag if I hit things that don't need to be discussed. Um. So, important stuff first. Are you back or just visiting? Have you been at the rehab place thing this whole time or with your mother?"

"Yes," AJ nods. He pours sugar into his spoon and watches it as he answers. "I am, officially, back. If that means anything. I don't really like that word, back. But, yes, I was there, and with her, near her, for the whole time. But I did stay at the," he looks at Lance and smiles, "rehab place thing. For about a month. Then I stayed with her for a while and did a little of each? I just," he dumps in the sugar and reaches for the creamer, "I wanted to give it some time. Before, moving back here."

"Are you?" JC hands him a creamer. "Moving back?"

"Yes," he dumps the cream in too and looks back at JC, "thanks. Yes, I am going to move back, but I want to be careful. I mean, and I know you guys can get this, I don't want to put myself in the same places I was in before. Here. I want it to be different."

"Yeah," Joey smiles, "I get that. I think that's good, really."

"Fuck." Lance looks back at the counter. A woman in a blue pant suit is trying to straighten the 'Please Wait To Be Seated' sign. "They're a'coming in droves. I'll be back."

There's a pause when Lance leaves. JC looks at his hands and up at AJ again, at AJ's arms.

"Dude," JC grins, "you got muscles and everything while you were gone."

"Well," AJ grins and rubs his shoulder, "back. I kinda got the muscles back while I was gone. But, yes."

AJ looks over at JC, shrugs, and JC finds himself smiling.

"So, what have you two been up to?"

"Oh, um," JC takes a sip of his coffee. He added too much sugar. "Well, Joey is tabling with Kelly this week, right?"

AJ hits Joey's arm, "you still stalking that girl?"

"I am not stalking."

"You are so stalking!"

"There is no stalking!" Joey sits up in his chair and glares at AJ, just a little. "It's not stalking. She's just. She's very involved and I'm very into being involved and she's very encouraging of people joining in and coming along."

"Mmm." AJ smiles. "Joey, I know you care about this stuff, I know that. Really. But you have got to admit you love, love, the perks of being a boy in touch with gender issues. You love it."

"Yes," JC laughs, "and don't let him tell you otherwise!" He shoots Joey a look, "because if he does, he is lying!"

"Look. Look." Joey pushes up his sleeves. "I can't help it if working on issues I care about, genuinely care about, gets me some attention. I mean, I think it's important and, you know, sometimes it's pretty awkward being the only guy in a room." He leans forward, "but, despite what you may assume, I think it's important. No, really important. And if other guys haven't taken the time to learn that women prefer their men non-sexist and non-pig-like. That's their loss.

Joey sticks his hand into the air, "Women are just, like, these beautiful, beautiful people who can do things in ten seconds that it's taken me ten years to learn I'm allowed to do. They're beautiful. And at least I can have a _conversation_ about an emotion without having to run away and play a fucking game of football afterwards to cleanse myself."

"Hey man," AJ leans back and puts up his hands, "I'm not arguing against it. Not at all. Women? Wonderful. We are all in agreement. No criticism. Right? Yes." He nods and looks at JC, "you? What's up with you right now?"

"Um." JC looks over at Joey, "what's up with me lately Joey?"

"Well, you got out of working today."

"Oh, yes! That was very nice. Very. And Nick," he turns back to AJ, "this kid I know from back home, he's coming to visit this weekend. Or Friday maybe."

"Friday?" Lance reappears with plates and food and ignores Joey's _fucking took you long enough_ comment. "I thought he was coming Saturday?"

"Job interview," JC frowns, "I think. It's all really weird and last minute. I think nepotism is heavily involved. Or, the non-familial version of nepotism. All I know is that he definitely wants to check out apartments."

"Oh," AJ moves the sugar so Lance can set the plates down, "who is this guy? He's looking to move here?"

"Um. He's a friend of JC's," Joey pokes at his burrito, "he's moving here. He wants to move soon right?"

"Yeah," JC nods, "I mean, he'd like a job first, but basically, yes."

"I need a place. Well, I mean, a place or a person to live with."

"Okay, well," JC nods, "I'll tell him you're looking too, if you want."

"Solid." AJ nods. "So what's up with the rest of your little posse?"

Lance checks over his shoulder again, but stays put. He counts out names on his fingers as he speaks, "Britney? Sleeping with that idiot Wade-- who is not, not, not in our 'posse', no matter what she tells you. Joey?" He points. "Still stalking Kelly."

"Look." Joey puts the burrito down to speak. "Look. I am not stalking her."

"Joey, where are you going after lunch?"

"Lance. I am just bringing her tea! She's stuck at a stupid table all day for goodness sakes. Justin brought JC waffles and _that_ wasn't stalking."

"Oh, Justin," AJ looks at JC, "where is he?"

JC smiles, "off somewhere. He's around though. Class I think. Or he's stuck in a lab again. He goes all lord of darkness the moment they go off of summer hours."

"Yeah? I grabbed a [Performer](http://www.performermag.com/nepindex.shtml) the other day, to see if he was still getting jobs in there, but I didn't catch anything."

"Oh he is, he is," JC nods at AJ, "but it's been slow."

"Yeah."

There's a pause, of the awkward variety. Lance decides he has to go and do work related things. JC eats some chili. It's getting cold, but Lance up-ed him from a cup to a bowl, so he can't really complain. AJ drinks his coffee and Joey picks at his burrito. Then AJ's finished his coffee and Joey's finishing his burrito and JC just watches AJ's hands on the cup. AJ's nails are painted gray.

"So," AJ looks at JC, "I should go. But, I'm really glad I saw you guys."

JC nods, "yes. Really. Did you, do you want to leave some sort of number for Nick?"

"Oh, yes," AJ smiles, "and, you know, for you too. All of you. I'd really like to see you guys more. Um."

Joey reaches under the table for his bag and comes back with a pen. He nods, "that would be cool. Really."

AJ writes down the number on a napkin, he still draws dashes through his number sevens. "Good." AJ nods, looking at Joey, "great." He hands JC the napkin. "And if this kid wants to meet up when he's here or something, I'll be around. I'm just job hunting and apartment hunting and all that fun stuff."

JC grimaces, "good luck."

"Yeah, well," AJ stands up, "fingers crossed and all that." He smiles at JC again, "come here you."

JC stands up to hug him, AJ smells like cloves. JC shifts his hand on AJ's shoulder and they let go and look over at Joey.

"Hey, you around later?" Joey stands up, "you want to come over and visit Kelly with me? I'm bringing her tea."

"No thank you!" AJ laughs and throws up his hands, "you'll make me sign petitions and read articles and crap."

"Hey," Joey frowns, "you should know about this stuff."

"No no no Joey." JC pushes him back. "You leave the boy be. You can suck him in and read him articles later." He points at Joey's chair. "Sit. Later Joey."

Joey pours himself more tea and JC pushes AJ off on Lance, then sits down again. He starts eating, but he looks up at Joey after a bit. Joey's watching him.

"That was wild."

"Yeah."

"He looks better."

"Yeah. A lot better."

"Crazy."

"Yeah."

Joey shrugs and finishes his tea. "Good chili?"

"The best!"

 

 

 **Chapter 10: _Cloth Napkins to Show You Care_**

For any good friendship to develop, bonding must occur. Frequently through the shared survival of great trials. JC and Justin, for example, bond through pain, suffering, and intense psychological warfare. Years of family picnics with Mrs. Stoaten, the neighbor from three houses down, bringing her special Macaroni Beef Casserole with extra Velveeta for everyone to enjoy.

One year, as she's leaning down towards him, her muumuu desecrating the Good Name Polyester, plate hovering for him to take, JC begins to think that he may just hurl the contents of his stomach about the back yard if he has to explain to one more person that, while he's glad their hotdogs are of the quality plump-when-cooked variety and that this brings them joy, he is not, not, not going to try them. Or anything with beef and extra Velveeta either.

So he's sitting there. The plate is hovering, the muumuu is desecrating, the nausea is rising, when suddenly, there's a nice, quiet, _plop_ , a soft thump, and-- "ooops"-- Justin's cherubic little face gleaming up at Mrs. Stoaten, looking wide-eyed and so so so sorry for bumping into her. How could he have been so clumsy? Will she accept his oh-so-humble apologies? Justin gives JC one lovely wink of solidarity and then escorts her back across the yard, the contents of JC's stomach safe, for another hour at least. Thus begins a beautiful friendship.

 

JC bonds with AJ through the shared survival of bad roommates. Or, roommate-- item one-- Amanda. Girl's fancied herself an experimental Artist since the ninth grade and JC arrives home one evening to discover she's gone experimental on the couch. The fact that it is really JC's parent's couch, and no longer resembling a couch, doesn't really help the situation much. Moral of this story? Artist roommates: potentially cool and potentially dangerous.

After a long, involved discussion in which JC and AJ don't quite agree with Amanda on how recompensating JC's parents means devaluing her art-- and in which JC might have sworn and kicked a door-- the decision is made to move. Or, rather, the reality that the lease is in one person's name only, rears it's ugly head and the decision is made to take said person up on her kind offer of giving them two weeks to find a new place and move.

They move. JC's parents help them with a new "new couch" (this time from an estate sale-- the recently departed Mrs. Stoaten's) and several bake sales are held to raise money to fund deposit payments. Since the bake sales are really large parties with cup fees for the booze and very overpriced-- but tasty! and vegan!-- pot-brownies, the parents are kept out of the loop on those. There are however, lovely promotional flyers created for the occasion. Justin plays with Photoshop and cuts up old Chinese takeout menus for the flyers and AJ has one framed for each of them when it's over.

 

JC's on the no-longer-even-remotely-new couch, staring at Justin's flyer hanging on the living room wall, waiting for Nick, when the buzzer sounds. Nick called earlier from a payphone in [Harvard Square](http://www.cambridge-usa.org/visitor/squares.htm#harvard), got instructions on riding the T and complained about the heat, which is ridiculously high for September.

But Nick has made it, did not melt, and JC just greets him from the doorway. "Hey, look at you in that suit. Second time I've seen you in one too."

Nick pulls at his tie and grimaces, "I've got to get out of this damn thing. Could there be any more padding in these shoulders?"

JC smiles and leads Nick into the apartment. "Aww, poor boy. All this for some lousy health insurance too." He smirks. "Did you wear good socks? It's always easier to wear the clothes of the normals if you have good socks on."

Nick blushes a bit. JC finds it rather adorable. "Well..."

"Nick! Let me see. Oh, the stripes! I love them. And they match your tie, don't they?"

"Well, of course. Coordination is key."

"Yes," JC nods, "it so is."

Nick pulls off his tie and shoes. "Can I take a quick shower or something? I feel gross."

"Sure, yes. Oh! You can use the guest towels." JC walks into the hallway, "Lance and I went shopping last month and got them." He leans back around the corner, "they say 'Guest' on them, so as not to be confused with the fish covered beach towel-- mine-- or the velvety plush blanket things Lance calls towels." He frowns, "okay, it was a whim, we're impulse shoppers, whatever. But, dude, his towels? Crazy man. He asked for them for Christmas last year."

"Mmm. Are they all soft and fuzzy?"

"Oh yes, double sided. And green of course. Lance likes to look his best, even when nekkid."

Nick laughs and hops up from the couch. "Well, I think that, once you're letting them see you in a towel. Well, don't you think the work's over once you're washing up from it?"

"Point. Good point. Here," JC tilts his head towards the hall, "get yer stinky self showered and we'll figure out an agenda for the evening."

JC gets Nick to the towels and the shower. He waits in his room and worries a bit about the dust in the corners. Allergies, potentially. That and his mother always said you clean before having houseguests. JC never really embraced the habit all that religiously. But, to be fair, he does believe in scrubbing out the bathroom every other week. JC likes to take baths.

 

JC's listening to one of Justin's mix tapes when Nick comes back. Justin believes deeply that mix tapes are a wonderful way to indicate friendship and further bonding. Justin also argues that men have communication issues and that mix tapes are one way for them to work on this from a safe place. He's been accused of browsing the self-help section of the bookstore a few times. JC supports mix tapes, strongly. And communication. But he's also pretty sure that Justin loves making covers for his tapes. Justin has a process for his covers. It involves newspaper clippings, lots of clear packing tape and old photos.

Nick's got a towel around his waist and his garment bag over his shoulder. He pulls shorts out of the bag he left in JC's room and JC carefully reads the _[Phoenix](http://www.bostonphoenix.com)_ while Nick changes. It's Friday, there are new movies to be reviewed. Something about comic books. They don't like it, but the _Phoenix_ has a hate everything policy anyways. Or, everything after 1963.

Nick throws something in the corner, JC's not looking. "So, how did it go?"

"Mmm... What?"

"The interview?"

"Good I guess?" Nick hops a little as he pulls on his jeans. "No, it went well. The whole thing is a little. It's just so rushed and I didn't think. I wasn't expecting some job with an English professor, but. It's cool. Maybe it's a sign."

JC waits until he hears the zipper, turns just in time to see Nick's fingers buttoning the top button. "Wait." He looks up. "You got the job?"

"No. Well, yes, but no, not officially, but yes probably. He's-- the guy at the department-- a guy that my professor knows, so I think it's kind of a formality, the interviewing."

"Oh!" JC puts down the paper. "But, Nick. That's awesome. That means you have the job!"

"Well." Nick pulls a t-shirt over his head and looks at JC, he's grinning. "Kinda, yeah."

"You dork!" JC claps his hands together. "That's awesome. You didn't even say anything! When does this start?"

Nick frowns, "Soon. That's kinda the catch. Assuming he calls with the official word, he can give me a week, a week and a half, tops. He's got to get someone. So I, like, need a place to live. ASAP."

"Okay, here's the thing. We ran into this guy, AJ. He's just back in the area, he wants a roommate, all that stuff. I actually used to live with him and he was cool. He washed his dishes before the week was out, you know? But he was gone because he was in rehab and we were cool, but then he did really cut out on me when he left. It could have been messy." JC shakes his head. "But, ultimately? He was great and we got along fine. Until he moved out, like, a week before rent was due. But he was kinda loosing it at the time, I guess. And that was a while ago."

"Hmmm," Nick rubs at his neck. "Maybe I should meet him or something?"

JC nods, "and we can look at other places too. Then you'll have a few options."

"Yes," Nick nods, "I think that sounds great. What happened with the apartment when he left?"

"Lance happened," JC grins. "Britney and Justin knew each other and decided they had these two loser gay friends and that their friends should be set up on a blind date. And Lance shows up at my table wondering what I'm doing at a restaurant I hate and I ask him why he's wearing a leather jacket and _poof_ we're losers on a blind date that actually know each other. There was comedy, there was drinking, there was a mutual living situation issue. The rest is history, a highly platonic history."

"Completely and totally?"

"God yes. I mean, I love the boy and all, and I know he loves me, but he's a snarly little man sometimes. Besides, some people are just family, you don't go there."

"Like Tony?"

"Well," JC coughs, "yes, now. But I was young and misguided and hormonal for a while." He grins, "no more bad romance stories! Between Lance and Justin you're going to learn too much shit already."

"But it's all the good stuff!"

"Don't you want help moving here or something? Because I'm beginning to think..."

"No no, stop." Nick throws up a hand. "I'm stopping. Yes, find me an apartment. Please?" He bats his eyes at JC, "pretty please?"

"Well, when you ask so nicely," JC grins. "First we need Lance's laptop." He jumps up and heads towards the door.

"Laptop?"

JC looks back. "To [craigslist](http://boston.craigslist.org/), young man! Every self respecting apartment hunter in Boston goes two places, every self respecting freak goes to craigslist first."

Nick follows him down the hallway. "Okay?"

"Yes. Now. Think of witty and distinctive ways of describing yourself. All I can come up with is cute blonde, and, well, this won't be _that_ kind of ad."

"Refugee from Connecticut?"

"Ooooo, yes. Keep on that track."

 

Ads are posted. JC even remembers to save a copy on Lance's hard drive, just in case. There are two potentials in [Davis](http://www.ci.somerville.ma.us/cityplaces/somervillesquares.asp). Potential, but expensive. One that sounds way too cheap in [Cambridge](http://www.ci.cambridge.ma.us/) and involves cats. Two in JP. Emails have been sent, phone calls made, Nick even has an appointment for the next day. Nick looks pleased.

JC also thinks he looks exhausted. They're piled on the couch, laptop on the coffee table and Nick about to fall asleep at any moment, or possibly just asleep. JC leans back and looks at the ceiling. They never did finish putting all the stars up there. When he looks back over at Nick, his eyes are open again and he's watching JC.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I slept a little. Sorry."

"No, whatever. You look dead tired."

"Yeah. I'll just." Nick pushes his hair away from his face and stretches. "I'll be glad when my stuff is here and I'm done with it. It's fine. I'm kinda hungry though."

"Okay," JC picks at the hole in his jeans. "Lets cook something. Dude," he looks up," I bought extra vegetables. Just for company."

 

When Lance comes home a little while later, they're eating in the kitchen. Lance is on his cell phone, but waves hello at them as he walks into the room. "Justin says hi." Lance looks at the stove and raises an eyebrow. "Justin, how nice, JC cooked Nick dinner."

JC rolls his eyes, "I can cook. You ate my pizza last week man."

Lance ignores him. "Yup. No way am I betting..." He lifts up the lid. "Yes, yes... That kind. Good leftovers... Mmmm hmmm, that's what I said." He puts the lid down and shoots JC a look. "Okay, I'm being rude. Let me go away and be a polite roommate... Yep... Yes... Yup... I'll tell them... Okay."

He smiles at them as he closes his phone. "You must be Nick!" He grins. "I'm Lance, you may have gotten an idea of that though, what with the keys to the apartment and all."

"Yep." Nick leans back in his chair, "I'm quick like that."

"What did the little varmint want?" JC stands up and grabs Nick's bowl.

"He's decided we need to have a gathering. A gathering with alcohol. Tomorrow night."

"Cool. Everyone invited?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Nick? You up for meeting these maniacs?"

Nick shrugs and looks at JC. "I trust JC, he'll protect me."

 

Nick is starting to yawn about once a minute so JC sends him off to bed. Nick protests a bit, mentions helping with the dishes, but JC volunteers Lance, says he'll eat the leftovers so he gets to help clean. Nick crashes out on the couch, JC is scrubbing at tomato sauce, Lance is drying forks. JC grins, ahh domestic bliss. Lance takes a salad fork to dry and nudges JC with his hip.

"The zucchini, tomato, basil, JC-special pasta? With salad? And cloth napkins?"

"Trees man. You may use that paper crap, but I think trees." JC hands him another fork. "I like to cook."

"Yes, typically once a year. When there's sex involved."

"You know. What the hell? This is what you and Justin were 'mmmm hmmm'ing about over the phone, wasn't it?"

"Well, he was able to predict the food on the stove from several T stops and a line transfer away, JC."

"That boy needs to mind his business." JC frowns, "you all need to mind your business. Business-es. Okay, that's not a word, but I've made my point. Just dry the forks bitch. Dry."

"Yes dear," Lance bats his eyes at JC, "whatever you say."

JC does not stop in the living room to watch Nick sleeping. He doesn't. He just needs to grab a magazine.

 

 

 **Chapter 11: _Which comes first, the button or the boy?_**

There are restrictions on the evening's entertainment. First and foremost, it must involve alcohol. Secondly, it needs to be affordable alcohol-- or the closest thing to affordable, because, really, is drinkable alcohol ever all that affordable? There's a conspiracy in there somewhere. Thirdly, Britney feels the need to be seen (she's sporting new polyester). Fourthly, JC wants to go somewhere downtown, since they're all waiting for Lance to get off work anyway.

After listening to a morning and afternoon of this, Chris calls to say he'll be at [Delux](http://boston.citysearch.com/profile/4730086/) and they can just show up or continue to debate back and forth all day. JC relates all of this to Lance when he checks in from work and Lance snorts. "Thank god for sanity. Wait. Don't tell anyone I said that."

JC swears on several graves that he won't and takes Nick out to dinner. And a movie. To celebrate. The new job and all. Nick puts on his Docs with a sigh of relief (dress shoes = bad), JC wears the hoodie with red edges, and they're smiley all evening.

JC and Nick arrive late at Delux. They wade past the elderly woman with all the tattoos, avoid the lesbians arguing passionately about Vanilla Ice, and move further inside until they see a familiar messenger bag to the right (red and pink, Britney's for sure). Chris is standing, gesturing widely with his drink, and Lance is sitting at a table with Justin, looking at the drink nervously. It keeps creeping closer to the sleeve of his white bowling shirt.

"Look, the suits are cheesy," Chris is saying. "Cheese, cheese, but--"

"Look," Justin flicks his cigarette at the ashtray, shaking his head. "It's a bad sign when I and my peers are allowing ourselves to be defined by a tie or a belt. I don't want it to be that easy."

Lance nods, "I completely agree. With both of you. I'm just saying that I think the other thought is that there is some point behind the outfits. Like, a political purpose?"

Chris frowns. "But don't you think it's a little simplistic? That it's a little too easy. It just worries me. They're cute. The boys are C-U-T-E, but why rely on the uniform?"

"And," Justin nods, "when all it is a uniform. Is that all it takes to be in the club?"

"Again, true. But sometimes you wear a uniform to show you believe in something. To take a public stand." Lance shrugs, "there's an argument there that, in a way, it's just a big way of wearing a button."

"Yes, and you aren't hiding. That's a definite point."

JC pushes in beside Chris and raises his hand. "Um, hello? You of the solemn faces, we're here and stuff."

"Dork," Justin nudges him with his elbow, "where's Nick?" He looks behind JC. "Hey! Wow, I don't think I've seen you in forever, man." He looks around at the table. "That's Chris. Ignore the glaring, he's a pussy cat. Lance you know. Britney and Joey are... getting alcohol somewhere that way."

"Um," Chris coughs, "pussy cat?" He looks at Nick, "ignore him."

"Yes, will do," Nick laughs, "is this table ours?"

"Yeah, guys, here," Lance moves his chair over. "Can I just mention that this entire, whatever it was, exchange, started because Justin's shooting another concert next week? Hello, randomness!"

Justin shrugs, he shoots Chris a look. "Yeah, but you're still going to come, right? Please please please?"

"Justin..." Lance looks plaintively at JC.

"Don't look at me, he already asked! I can't."

"How loud is it going to be?"

"Not loud. Jazz stuff. I think. Jazz rock stuff?"

"Fine," Lance sighs, "but only because you're desperate."

"Yes! Thank you! You're awesome! And, dude, you'll like them, I hear they're good. Some chick from New York and her sister. And, a night out!"

Chris looks over, "wait. Where is this thing? This before the Mophead show?"

Justin rolls his eyes at JC, "yes." He looks at Nick, "so! Nick? Any luck with the job stuff?"

"Wait, wait." Chris looks confused, Justin glares at him. "Oooh."

Sometimes subtlety is a foreign language. JC almost starts to laugh, but then Lance is looking confused and JC decides it's too fun to let the game finish yet.

"Yeah, Nick, tell them about the job!"

"Well, I think I've got one."

"Think?" JC hits Nick's arm, "will you stop that? He got it, he so got it. Now we've just got to find him a place!"

Justin jumps in, "I saw AJ today. He's found a place and really really needs a body, quick. He might show tonight, too."

"Here?" JC frowns, "I thought he hated this place?"

"No," Justin shakes his head, "I think he hated seeing Christina when she worked here. But. He says they've talked and stuff." He looks at Nick, "I don't know what you've heard, but I think he's a good guy and that's all I'll say. I think he's a good guy and that you should talk to him before you decide anything."

"Okay, hey, he's not about to marry the boy or something," Chris laughs. "Deep breaths. Y'all need to relax sometimes. Nick, honey, you need a place to stay?"

"Yes."

"Well, we'll help find you one. But first. Bond with us, drink things, share dirty little secrets about these two boys. Inquiring minds need to know. How goofy were they in high school? Wait," he holds up a hand. "You know what I want to see? You," he points at Lance, "you. High school yearbook. Yes, that would be marvelous. I bet you were all sweet looking and your hair was all fluffy."

"No. It wasn't. And I wasn't. Just because some of us aren't all..." Lance looks down at his glass. "You know what? I'm gonna go find. Yeah."

Lance heads towards the bar, shaking his head. JC can see him pushing in next to Joey, frowning, until Joey pokes him and Britney blows him a kiss. The subject of high school, high school yearbooks and the fires of hell are all covered for a good fifteen-minute discussion. Nick speaks, people speak back, Nick references Radiohead b-sides from the late 1990's, Justin connects it to the Talking Heads and Chris looks impressed. JC feels pleased. And buzzed, hellooooo alcohol. Eventually Joey, Britney and Lance wander back. Conversation shifts to the upcoming elections and [Green Party](http://www.jillwill.org/) versus [Democratic Party](http://www.obriengabrieli.com/) voting. What's a good, god-fearing liberal to do?

Chris argues that maybe you just deal with more [Republicans](http://www.romney2002.com/) winning. Because, really, they're all almost the same when it comes to anything involving money, the guy running for governor is Pro-Choice anyway, and maybe they have to look at the long term. Like, bitching for a few years is way more than balanced out by the Democratic party acknowledging they need to act like Democrats again. Joey is completely horrified by this. And the idea that any Republican claiming they're Pro-Choice can be trusted to be consistent. He argues that you can't commit to four years of suffering if that equals women losing their right to choose. Britney nods along vigorously and JC tries to pay attention, but just yawns more than he'd like.

Britney's hair clips coordinate with her shirt. One green, one blue. JC stares at them sideways for a good fifteen minutes, Nick makes a good pillow. Eventually Nick looks down at him and shifts a little.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You look asleep."

"Yeah," JC sits up, "sorta."

Britney's watching them from across the table. "It's almost last call anyway. Y'all want to go?"

JC nods, "we should."

Joey glares at his glass. "You know. Why is it that I always crave french fries after going out? I swear. Chris? Add that to your 'potential conspiracies' list."

"Oh, yes. Will do." Chris yawns, "okay, I'm old and I need to go to sleep. I've got to be awake to cut hair tomorrow people. Up! Up!"

The lights come up as JC is standing up and stretching. He leans against Nick, "carry me?" Someone pushes him towards the door and Lance's voice sounds deeper when JC has his eyes closed. The speakers are playing "Alice's Restaurant". JC can hear something about "the group 'w' bench" when the door closes behind them. Nick and Chris are singing.

 

 

 **Chapter 12: _Etymological Dictionaries for Every Girl and Boy_**

The gig is up. Wait. Jig, not gig. Or whatever that means.

Actually, what does that mean? JC's always wanted one of those dictionaries where you can look up the origin of phrases.

This is probably, JC will admit, a lovely tangent to go on when you close the door to your apartment and you're faced with a rather annoyed looking Lance.

"So." Lance says again.

JC swallows. When Lance has his arms crossed, he's a force to be reckoned with.

"So. JC? Justin spoke with you about this show he's shooting at? And you were regretfully unable to attend?"

"Yes. I mean, I would-- I hear it's a great show, you'll like it-- but work and opening the next day..."

"Mmm." Lance nods. "So. Why didn't any one see fit to mention that Chris is friends with the... musician."

"Wow," JC blinks. "He is?"

"Yes," Lance glares, "He is."

"Wow. Coincidences man. It's a funny little world."

"JC! I do not want to spend an evening out with no one else except Justin and that kid!"

"Lance! He's, like, older than you!"

"Whatever. Look, I have a thing, my thing. I like to go out, I like to see the potentials and to take items home for sampling. I like doing my thing and I can not do that with him all around and sniping at me every second!"

"Oh, whatever. Your _thing_? Is what, some random? He isn't interfering with that game, he's just ignoring it."

"JC." Lance frowns. "He will not get out of my face. I mean, what was going on with that yearbook comment the other night? So some of us have less than glamorous histories, yes. Whatever, does he have to just--"

"Okay, I really do not not not think that what that was about. Just going on the record with that, but whatever, that's your interpretation. However, clearly he gets to you and you can be annoyed by that or no, that's your choice."

"He does not 'get to me'. He's just--"

JC holds up his hand. "Lance, honey, stop. Go to the concert, hang with Justin. You know you love those shows, so go and have a good time and argue with Chris or don't. I'm sure there's some new editorial in the [_Globe_](http://boston.com/globe) that you can disagree on."

"Look, I'm--"

"No. Nope. Stop." JC puts up a hand, "Ask me about something else. Ask me about Nick."

"Fine, how is Nick?"

"Nick is great. Nick, has a roommate."

"Fantastic. Who? Where?"

"Well, AJ, of course. I think the hand of destiny was moving on that one way before any of us finished saying hello."

"Well, yes," Lance smiles. "And, you know, sometimes people just need a break. AJ, he needs a break."

"Hmm." JC sits for a moment, then nods. "You know, I like that. I like that one a lot. Because, they both do. They're both at these points where they are pulling away and out of unhealthy situations and they're both needing a break in some way. And this way their paths are intersecting each other at the same time. Yeah."

"Or, they both just lucked out and have a good network of friends, but yes, hand of fate and all that too."

"No no, this is Our Lady. Mary man, I'm telling you, maybe the Catholics are onto something."

"That or maybe there's some unique mystical quality to bathtubs painted blue that are being used as shrines. Perhaps they collect some kind of energy force."

"Whatever." JC shakes his head, "I'm telling you, you can't ignore it. We repaired her, we cleaned her... I've been rubbing her belly and she's been good to me ever since."

"You?" Lance smirks, "your very self?"

"Well, yes. Me and mine."

"Mmmm, yes," Lance raises an eyebrow, "you and yours."

JC ignores the look. He can feel it from a mile off, but any boy with a "thing" and punk-issues and clear denial on attraction to boys with attitude, does not need to be humored further than the limits of JC-sanity. Or get the luxury of Look Power. Or whatever it should be called. JC stretches, he's sleepy, but what else is new?

"So, tell me about this Nick fellow of yours. What's going on with his move? Every time family is mentioned I think the boy turns green."

"Oh, man. His family is, like, crazy. Notorious. His mom wants them all to be genius-lawyer-doctor-childsaver-wonderkids. She is in. Tense."

"Funnn."

"You have no idea. I mean, I had to baby-sit for them, like, when I first started babysitting. And she had this whole routine thing where they had to do whatever for fifteen minutes and instruments for fifteen other minutes, and listen to classical music during dinner and the news after and she sent them to all these tutors and shit. It was crazy. And they are smart, all of them. Nick will never say it, but that boy is quick. And he used to write these poems, wow. We'd have seasonal performances and the writing group would come out and we'd just know. I remember sitting there and watching and thinking, wow. He is so smart."

"Yeah," Lance smiles, "I kind of guessed that. What with Yale and all that."

"Yes, but, weirdness again! He went to Yale, great. But he went there and stayed home, because she's so paranoid about keeping him around. Which is weird because I think his sister is off in California or something. I don't know. All I know is that he's not happy. I can just feel it and it's horrible. He needs to get away from there."

"But he is, he's found a place and everything. That's really good."

"Yes, I know, it's amazing that he's doing it. He's not talking about his mom that much, but I know it's a big deal. I think the job thing, having one, helps. And I've really got a good feeling about AJ, I do."

"Yes. It's cool, it'll be good. AJ too." Lance looks down at his hands, then up again quickly. "Oh! Did you see his new tattoo? He needs to stop!"

JC shudders. "I won't look at it. I can't. It's bad enough when he's had them a while, but when they're still scarring? No fucking way."

Lance chuckles. "Wimp."

"No. Aware of my limits, thank you very much." JC frowns, "it's a little weird. AJ being back."

"Yeah? You okay?"

"Yes." JC nods, "I am. It's just weird. I hadn't thought about him in a while. It's all cool, I mean, I knew nothing was going to happen when I met him, but still. Wow. And, just in general, he kinda made me think about things. Me. It's been way too long since I hooked up with someone."

"Which is, I will remind you, something that Justin has been mentioning to you for some time now."

JC rolls his eyes, "I'm not gonna tell him he's right, though! At least, not yet. He needs to be quiet about a few other things first."

"Yes yes, be strategic." Lance hops up, "while you're doing that, I'll be in the kitchen eating leftovers."

 

JC lies back on the couch while Lance zaps things. The lack of stars on half of the ceiling is really bothering him, but he needs to buy more stars before he can get back on it. Lance wanders back from the kitchen with two bowls and JC didn't think he was hungry, but suddenly he is. Lance hands him a cloth napkin and smirks, "for your beloved trees." JC grins and stares at the polka dots, they're so much more fun to use than paper.

 

 

 **Chapter 13: _Things That Go Bump In the Night_**

This is how it happens. One, JC is not supposed to know about it, let alone see it. Two, they probably wouldn't have even taken the risk, if it weren't for the drunkenness. Three, it is quite possible it's the furthest Chris thinks he can get into the apartment, so he doesn't care. Four, as far as JC can tell, they don't even know he is in the room, on the couch, when it happens. It's dark and all.

Five, it's really really hot and JC is feeling more than a little guilty for not coughing or rolling over or snoring or something. However, when he's being honest, and when he tells the story to Justin, he admits that it is really really hot and he kind of liked it. He does not, however, tell Justin about showering the next morning and imagining himself leaning back, hitting his head against the front door and resting his hands on some boy's shoulders.

So, this is how it happens. JC is on the couch. Justin calls at one am just as JC is sort of watching _The Twighlight Zone_ and sort of falling asleep. He's lying down, the red blanket over him, talking to Justin. Or, listening to Justin, until Justin realizes JC's falling asleep and tells him "JC, JC, go to bed." They end the phone call. JC turns off the TV, he turns off the light, he decides he'll get up and go to bed. In a minute or two.

He has no idea how late it is when he wakes up again and the door is opening.

Lance's voice comes into the room, his keys hit against the door. "I still don't. Whoops." He drop the keys. "I still don't think that justifies or excuses them from destroying all the shops and stuff. And mailboxes."

"I know, I know, I know." There's a sigh, it's Chris. "I'm agreeing with you, you fuck." He comes through after Lance, his voice gets louder. "God. Do you have to argue with me about everything? I mean, we can agree sometimes, you know?"

Lance is quiet a moment. "I know, I'm sorry. Fuck." The door closes, he sighs. "I'm drunk."

"Yep, I think we all got nicely drunk. Can I steal some water?"

"Yeah."

A light comes on in the kitchen. JC peeks out a bit, but he also thinks he can just fall back asleep. It's bright, and then not. There are footsteps back towards the living room.

"I'm going to be hungover tomorrow," Lance mutters. "I shouldn't have gone."

"Whatever," Chris sounds closer than before, "you loved it tonight. You were pumped. You had that place in your hand. You almost killed the damn camera."

"It was. An experience." Lance coughs. "Notice how I tried not to argue with you there."

"Mmm. Oh yes," Chris's voice is quieter. "I noticed. I'm feeling suitably impressed."

"What?"

There's a pause and then a slight thump.

"Oh, hey. You--" Lance gasps.

This would be another moment where JC should probably have coughed.

"Fuck, Chris. Chris, this is not going to hap-- fuck."

"See, that's just. You're wrong. You're smart, but sometimes you're wrong and you need to put it on pause for a bit. We're going to work on that. Now, this is good practice. Where were we?"

There's a much longer quiet moment. JC's back itches. For a quiet moment, they're making a lot of noise.

"Hey!"

Chris chuckles, "yes?"

"You bit me!"

"Yeah, you liked it."

If they had a fish, they might have an aquarium. And if they had an aquarium, it might have a light. And if the aquarium was in the living room, and if the light was on, JC might be able to see better. He can see Chris's arm, pushing against the door. When Lance opens his mouth, JC can see his teeth. He can see Lance's fingers, moving down and around Chris's jacket. He can hear a zipper. Chris's head moves and pushes into Lance's shoulder. He pushes up on his toes and says something into Lance's shirt.

Lance moves his arm again. "You know, you swear too much."

"What can I say--" Chris gasps, moves up, then down. "I ran with scissors too."

"Mmm. You look the type."

Chris breathes out, more loudly this time, and steps back. "Now why'd you go and do that?"

"You. Here." There's a click, something falls, and JC can see Lance's t-shirt. "Can you? While I?"

Chris snorts, "you have to ask?" He moves back in, puts one hand on Lance's shoulder and pushes him back so he's leaning on the door again. Lance shifts, then leans down into Chris's neck.

Maybe JC is kind of glad they don't have the aquarium. He closes his eyes and pulls the blanket up again. He opens his eyes, but stares towards the television, instead of the door. He thinks the alphabet. When he's hit "x" for the eleventh time, he looks back.

"You know," Chris is still moving up and down on his toes, something more regular now. "You know," he breathes, "this might be easier in a bed. In a horizontal position."

"Yeah, but not as hot."

"Mmmm, point. You-- Fuck, I can't. Talk."

"Good."

There's a click. JC can see Lance grin. Chris leans completely into him, one hand on the door, the other... Somewhere. JC starts the alphabet again, then one to ten in Spanish. _Uno, dos_ \-- they are so freaking loud. How do people breathe that loudly? _Tres, cuatro_ \-- JC will never ever be able to look at that door the same way. At least, not until Lysol has been used on the doorknob. _Cinco, seises_ \-- someone moans, JC refuses to acknowledge that he knows who. _Siete, ocho, nueve_ \--

Lance's head hits the back of the door, hard. JC closes his eyes again. _Diez_. He opens them.

They're standing, kissing, just away from the door. Lance has his hands on Chris's hips.

Chris pulls his head back. "Fucker. Now I need a shower."

Lance shrugs, "we've got towels."

"Yeah? Like that idea. What time is it?"

"I don't know. Late. Here," Lance leans down and picks something up. JC can hear someone's belt buckle jingling, just a little. Lance reaches for Chris and pulls him back towards the hall. "If you're nice, I'll let you use the loofa."

"Let me? Let?" Chris's voice heads down the hall as well. "Bitch, see if I let you keep your loofa!"

JC goes back to staring at the television. He can remember what eleven is in Spanish, but not twelve. When he hears the shower start, he leaps up and runs to his room. There's no way he's getting to work on time in the morning, but there's no way he wants to be awake when the shower stops. He counts to ten a few more times. He can't remember stopping and falling asleep, but eventually, he does.

 

 

 **Chapter 14: _No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service_**

The Emergency Response Friends phone tree is activated on Wednesday afternoon. Joey's decided to make a play. He's told Kelly all about a Thursday Night Dinner he hosts for all his friends. Casual fun, conversation, dinner for all... It's not something they've ever actually done on even a semi-regular basis, but there's potential there for a future getting-to-know-you session with Kelly. And he could start doing it. They've _talked_ about doing it.

All hell breaks loose when she actually says, "you do this every week? Cool." And then follows that with the oh-so-horrifying five word phrase: "I'll be around this Thursday."

 _Quelle horreur!_

JC barely remembers his eighth grade French, but he knows that much. And Joey, on the phone to him at two pm, sounds about that panicked.

Begging and pleading occurs, as well as a little bit of groveling and some back-and-forth gossip on the Chris and Lance situation-- "They did not!" "Yup." "And you really?!" "Let's not discuss that." Eventually Joey manages to persuade AJ, Justin, Chris, and JC to promise attendance. Joey considers it a minor miracle and promises them all free drinks the next time they go out. Hard alcohol, even.

Britney sends her regrets (Mophead show in Providence) and Lance remains the lone hold out. JC believes he can weaken him.

"What do you mean you're busy? What are you doing?"

"Stuff." Lance crosses his arms and brushes at lint JC can't see. "Lots of stuff."

JC frowns. "Your friend calls you in his most desperate hour. Asks for your help in making a girl feel like she hasn't been creepily set up and lured into his lair, so she doesn't run away screaming and/or get him kicked out of feminism as a whole, and you say you've got 'stuff' to do?!"

"Well," Lance doesn't blink, JC was hoping he would. "He did lure her under false pretenses."

"I'm thinking of it as a well meaning fib. I mean," JC rubs at his elbow, "we have talked about having dinners."

Lance shakes his head, "but we don't have them. It's still a fib."

"A well meaning one," JC frowns. "For love and all that."

"Love? Can suck my big toe."

"Well," JC Laughs, "if you like that sort of thing I'm sure I can talk to--"

"Shut." Lance holds up a finger. "Up. Fuck. I never should have gone--"

"Oh no," JC shakes his head, "don't even try that one."

"Well, I never should have drank--"

"Mmmm. Nope. You can forget that one too."

"Look, I don't want him to get the wrong idea okay? I mean, there's a process here."

"A process?"

"Yes, a process. With timing. Timing is key. You can't see the other person for a while. There's a risky period where you're both in the strange 'recent sexual contact' zone and if you interact you can fall into the very slippery 'familiar sexual territory is comfortable' area. Which is red alert and can lead very very quickly into a 'regular sexual partner' point. One person beginning to get more attached, the other not knowing how to handle it, people begin to get hurt... bad stuff. All of which is easily avoidable if a proper distance is kept for a proper length of time."

JC coughs. He nods again, just to show he's been listening. "Hmm. So this is, like, a tested theory. From your expert opinion."

"Think of it as the voice of reason."

"Well, no. I think your theory has crap written all over it." JC shakes his hair back and stands up. "You're going to dinner. I don't want to hear it."

"Hey, you can't just--"

"Lance," JC turns back, "one, Joey asked you and it will be fun. Two, you're forgetting the important part."

"Which is?"

"Your theory only holds well for one-nighters and random dates. Chris is officially in your peer group."

Lance shrugs. "So?"

"Well, dating, or one-night-standing, or whatever, is one thing. You two are still interacting beyond that, before and after. So you have to meet and set a new tone. Or reestablish the old one. But you have to establish _something_. Avoidance just takes you out of the overall group. And you don't get to do that because you're my roommate and I've said so. Besides..." JC looks off towards the wall and smiles.

"Yes?"

"If you don't you're a big wimp and you know it." JC crosses his arms. "And if you think I'm annoying, imagine Joey and Justin combined."

"Fine," Lance sighs. "Fine. But only because Joey needs help. And if things are weird it's your fault."

"Well, no," JC shakes his head, "it's not. But if telling yourself that helps, you go ahead. Just don't say it where I can hear you, because I'm going to tell you you're wrong."

 

Before they leave for dinner Lance takes a shower and puts on the DIESEL jeans. JC decides to say nothing. Baby steps.

 

AJ is debating with Joey over tomatoes when they arrive. He prefers some of his less cooked than others. For contrast. Lance just nods towards the living room and makes a beeline for the kitchen. He offers to stir things. Justin is on the couch with Chris looking at a box of photos. JC sits with them. The roll came out a little funny and Justin is frowning. Something about burning things in. There's a shot of the lead singer leaning away from the microphone that JC loves.

Chris flips through the photos and then stacks them on Joey's coffee table. He taps at the edges. JC sits on one side of him, watching Chris's hands. Justin sits on the other side watching Chris's feet. After about a minute or so of this Chris looks left, then right, then leans back and folds his arms.

"If you little shits don't stop looking at me like I'm going to break or something..."

"No, no. There's absolutely no fear of breaking." Justin laughs, "at least not on your end. We're just waiting to see what you'll do next. This is better than old comic books man."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Really?" He looks over at JC.

JC shrugs. "Don't look at me. Justin talks to you too much as it is. I live with the boy, I don't want to risk my life here or anything."

Justin shakes his head. "JC is being cautious. I, however, fear not the wild Lance beast and I will aid you in your quest."

JC coughs and shoots Justin the 'ah-hem' look.

"Hey, Lance needs it man."

JC looks towards the kitchen and then back. The phone is ringing. "I didn't say that he didn't. I didn't say Chris didn't either. I just said that I'm in the line of fire and will only help where I'm able. Besides, there's subtle, careful work being done on the home front." He gets up and heads towards the kitchen. "You plot where I can't hear you."

 

AJ is now gleefully chopping tomatoes. Gleefully equals humming "Take the Skinheads Bowling" and shimmying a bit with the hips. Lance is just leaning against the wall and watching. He appears amused, but he's also used to AJ's interactive cooking show. Joey is still on the phone.

"Uh huh... No... Yeah. I mean... Yes, of course, completely understandable." Joey shoots JC what might just be the Saddest Look Ever, then looks back at the wall. "Yeah... No no, everyone's here, it was no trouble... Yes. Okay, thank you for calling... The election meeting? Yup... Voter registration. Okay, I've got to... Okay, see you Tuesday."

Joey hangs up the phone and sighs what might be the Saddest Sigh Ever.

"God. Hates me." Joey rubs at his neck. "JC? Your theory about being nice to Our Lady? Crap."

"Hey man," JC shrugs, "maybe you're in a Job-esque biblical testing moment. Trial of faith and all that."

"Okay then," Joey looks towards the ceiling, "why god? Why?"

AJ scrapes the tomatoes into a bowl. "I take it Kelly bailed?"

"You're a genius." Joey stirs the blue pot and puts the lid back on. The lid is green, it doesn't fit. "Fuck, and we got everyone together too."

Lance pushes off the wall. "Well. I hate to say it, but you did kind off creepily set her up-- to borrow a JC phrase. Maybe it's better this way?"

"I suppose it's only fair." Joey sighs again. "JC? You want to tell those two to get in here and grab some food?"

 

Later they all find themselves sitting around the living room and watching _Friends_. Chris is not happy with this turn of events. Not happy meaning groaning in pain every minute or so and arguing strongly during commercials that "my mother never let us watch television during meals and didn't you want an evening with us together talking and not passively watching the box?" Eventually Lance hits him on the shoulder, "will you shut up?" He turns off the television. "But only because I can't take listening to you complain."

Chris bats his eyes at him. "My hero."

"So, you guys," Joey clears his throat, "may I call your attention to the approaching election and all that?"

AJ groans, "I knew this was coming."

"Hey," Joey frowns, "I'm just asking for volunteers. You can say no. However, do you have any idea how low the voting rate was last election?"

"It was sad," Justin nods. "Just sad. I don't understand it. If people can't get to the polls, why not just use the absentee ballots?"

"And the things coming up lately," Joey sighs. "So many potential issues."

"I know man." Justin shakes his head. "Yeah, count me in, I'll help."

"Great, awesome. Thank you." Joey nods. "Anyone else?"

"Well," Chris shrugs, "I'm writing essays and cutting hair. I think I get more accomplished when conversing while cutting the hair than anything else, but I can give you space in the webpage."

AJ shrugs, "honestly? I feel a little maxed out right now. Between that whole, not turning to drugs thing, and, god help us, moving things out of storage.

"Yeah?" JC looks up, "how's that coming along?"

"Well, it's going. Next weekend I think."

"Really? It's definite?" JC grins. "Awesome, I can't wait. We'll have to set you guys up with some kitschy housewarming presents."

"More guest towels?" Lance cuts in. "We just got guest towels."

Justin rolls his eyes, "how about a vegan cookbook or two?"

"Oh no. Don't you start pushing that on Nick too!" JC shakes his head. "Not cool."

"You know, I merely try to spread the word and educate, man. I won't attack your boy."

"Okay," JC shakes his head, "not my boy. Not mine."

Justin rolls his eyes at Lance. "I would just like to point out that I wasn't actually even attempting to imply anything there. At all."

Lance snorts, "for once."

"Ooo, hey, Chris!" Justin sits up and hits Chris's arm. "Idea!"

Lance raises an eyebrow. "No more ideas from you, you two are not to be trusted."

"Hey!" Chris crosses his arms. "Justin has fabulous ideas. Some people enjoy Justin's ideas more than they'd like to admit."

Lance shakes his head. "Some people don't know what other people are talking about."

Chris frowns. "Some people need to meet a little river called Denial."

"Some people," Justin coughs-- he might be laughing, JC can't tell. "Some people need to shut up and listen to my idea."

"Okay, okay, shush!" Joey takes a deep breath, "Justin. Look at us. All here, listening."

"Idea. You and your group of whomever will encourage individuals to register. What if you do a drive at the hair place? People who register get a deal on a haircut." Justin grins and looks around. "Mmm hmmm, nice isn't it? I could make coupons and everything."

Chris looks at Joey, "well, we probably could. I'd have to ask and stuff though."

"Yeah," Joey nods, "I'll bring it up. Or at least it's an idea to try in general too, at neighborhood type places."

"Maybe the pottery place could do something? Or the bookstore?"

"Yeah, they're all possible." Joey stands up. "Yeah, I'll bring it up, thank you." He yawns, then looks around. "Umm, so. Leftovers anyone?"

Apparently Joey was so worried about having enough food that he cooked about ten times too much. Ziploc baggies of leftovers are distributed around the room. JC goes to the bathroom before he leaves and Justin follows quickly after him. Justin stops JC in the doorway, bounces on his toes a bit, and swears that Chris had Lance making out with him in the hallway earlier in the evening. "They looked up and Chris pulled him into Joey's room and everything!" Justin looks like a very very pleased cat. JC continues to be Switzerland. Yes, Lance's shirt is untucked, but it's possible it was untucked in the first place. This counter argument gets nothing but an eye roll and muttering from Justin, but he does agree that "anything is possible." They wander out to Chris and Lance arguing about something by the couch. Lance is smiling. _That_ , JC thinks, is potential evidence. Joey is yawning again and it's time to leave. JC grabs his leftovers and grabs Lance. AJ's bike is on the back porch and he offers to walk with Justin and Chris to the T. Lance decides that he and JC should walk home and avoid the T. Just for a change.


	4. Part Four (Chapters 15-17)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooodles of thanks to Katie for the betabetabeta, educational mixtapes, general intel, and for buying me my first Accelerator at (the non-clothing version of) Diesel. So gooood. Also, thanks to all and every who's slogged down Center Street with me so I can get my pumpkin pancake fix.

 

 

 _"and you were here  
Don't look back"_  
\-- "He War," Cat Power

 

 

 **Chapter 15: _Starving Children Everywhere_**

JC looks up when the bell on the door jingles. Loudly. Justin walks through waving his arms.

"I'm early, I know I'm fucking early. What the hell, man? Who made it law that every fucking coffeehouse in Davis has to be filled to the brim on weekends? Fuck man. I just wanted to sit and read for an hour, is that such a huge request?

JC frowns, "why the hell were you ever there?"

"Biked over last night for a show. Chris let me crash." Justin unzips his hoodie and throws his bag behind the counter. "Dude. I'm starving. I had, like, a plan: [Diesel](%20http://boston.citysearch.com/review/4751854/editorial/?cslink=cs_profile_tabs_editorial_review%20), reading, sandwich. I have had no sandwich."

"I've got..." JC looks around and grabs a cup. "Cold coffee?"

Justin grimaces. "No thank you." He sighs and lifts the edge of his t-shirt. "Look at my stomach. It says, 'food. Want food'."

"Um, yes, indeed. I can't quite raise my eyebrows like Lance can, but pretend I just did okay?"

Justin frowns at him and jumps on the spare stool. "You know what I really want to eat?"

"No, but I feel sure you'll tell me."

"Tofu scramble. I've been craving it all week."

"Well, I've got tofu, but my tofu scramble sucks and you know it."

"Yes," Justin nods. "It's a great sadness in my life. You do, however, make a lovely stir fry."

"Yup. Even Lance eats it and Lance doesn't do tofu."

"You don't cook enough. You cooked a whole meal when Nick came out too. Lance said he got leftovers." Justin pauses, "hey, when Nick's done unpacking, we have to take him around. We should do touristy shit and everything. The musical stairs at the Science Museum."

"You know, I think everyone on earth's seen those stupid stairs, but me."

Justin clicks his teeth, "I worry about your upbringing. Hey--"

JC looks up. There's a customer coming up to the register. He smiles and takes the two books from him, "$23.87." The man pays, leaves, and JC turns and looks at the clock. "We've got, like, twenty minutes until I can leave. Will you survive without food until then?"

"Well, yes," Justin sighs. "I can manage."

 

Eventually, far too long an eventually for Justin's stomach, JC is relieved from duty and they're on their way. JC feels a little bouncy. He elbows Justin, "hey! Nick's going to be here!"

They arrive at _la casa de_ Nick and AJ relatively on time. There's a large blue van out front and the doors to everything are open. Justin looks at JC, "someone's moving day perhaps?"

At the top of the stairwell there's an AJ with a large box in his arms. "Yo! Nick, the help's here!"

Nick pops his head out the apartment door and grins. "Awesome. You have perfect timing, I got here about twenty minutes ago."

JC nods, "cool. We can do whatever, but Justin here is wasting away."

Justin nods, "I am in need of sustenance."

AJ puts the box down and nods his head towards a door on the left. "Check the fridge. I just went shopping."

"You are my hero."

JC heads back towards the van with Nick. When they get there, Nick pats the door of the van and introduces her to JC. "Her name is Bertha. She's been very nice. I even parked well on the first try."

 

Moving type activities go on for the rest of the afternoon. They get everything into the apartment fairly quickly, but then there's the whole issue of which wall the bed should go against and sofa placement. AJ's all for dramatic angles, but Justin suggests having a trial period for the angles and JC thinks Nick looks a little relieved. When the poster of Mr. Spock has been carefully unrolled and hung on the living room wall, they decide they've come to a stopping point.

AJ makes salad. He puts in lots of chickpeas, much to Justin's delight, and they're in the process of scarfing down food when Joey calls. AJ says his hellos and passes the blue phone on to JC.

"Hey, you guys sore as hell yet?"

JC pokes Nick in the arm and he whimpers back at JC. "Yup, we're sore."

"Aww, poor things. You're missing quite a show over here."

"Yes? Tell?"

"Yes, it's called the Lance is spazzing over a boy show."

"Mmm," JC chuckles, "I've been watching that show for weeks now."

"There was even a bout of pacing the room. Apparently they're going on a date. Or, well, Chris has informed him they're going on a date. Dude, it's, like, weeks away. This is better than _Iron Chef_."

"Ooo, hey, Justin!" JC looks up at Justin and bounces in his seat, "Chris is attempting a date. Joey, when did this happen?"

"Apparently today. Lance was just here. I've been told-- keep in mind I've had to interpret this from a very foul mouth-- that Chris arrived at Trident and left a note with the kid at the cash register. And really, his mother would not approve of that language."

"I know. She cries and wonders about his fate; we all do. A note though," JC looks around the room, Justin is looking intrigued, AJ and Nick look a wee confused. "Interesting tactic, that. I like it. AJ and Nick don't have a clue about these goings on, though."

"JC! What kind of friend are you, not filling them in on our own little odd couple. Go, reenact scenes dramatically. Make Justin use the Lance voice!"

"Okay, okay. Go away and I will." As soon as Joey hangs up, JC does. Justin does the Lance impersonation, complete with arm folding, and JC's voyeuristic tendencies are revealed, much to Justin's glee. AJ is very amused and Nick assures JC that it's perfectly understandable under the circumstances. JC finds this comforting.

At this point in the evening they're all little sore puddles. Nick shows them to the door, because he now has his very own apartment door to show them too, and he gives JC's shirt a farewell pet-- flannel and plaid, JC is rather fond of it too. Then the JC and the Justin head home to their beds.

 

 

 **Chapter 16: _Mandate Building 101_**

The great Joseph Fatone-organized, Justin Timberlake-inspired, voter registration drive doesn't seem to be going as planned. JC does not attend the meetings, but he volunteers his services for miscellaneous tasks such as envelope sealing and general tabling. No neighborhood canvassing though, he put in that time when he was seventeen and he doesn't want to go back. Ever.

Justin attends meetings and brings back reviews, summaries, and general gossip. Apparently it's a motley crew made up of mainly Green Party supporters, some of Joey's feminist buddies, and a few folks from the anti-death penalty group Joey sometimes attends. The biggest debate is over the lack of cheese alternatives in the veggie platter at a fundraising event.

However, the idea of doing [small voter information/registration activities](%20http://www.bostonvote.org/k_a_b/knock_across_boston.html%20) leading up to the election is popular. All the varied and slightly scattered groups are trying to do them and Chris does manage to get some space cleared at the salon for a table. In the end it's a little slap dash, a little less official than Joey would like-- or so JC suspects-- and starts really damn early on a Saturday morning.

Britney appears on JC's doorstep at seven-fifteen a.m., as promised, looking rather bleary-eyed and desperate for coffee. JC starts with the hello-hellos but she throws up a hand.

"Honey. Love you, love you heaps, but I got three, four hours, tops. Those hours were spent in Wade's fucking twin bed and boy was too high to worry about getting anyone but his very little one off last night. Please just lend me a handkerchief for the hair and let's head towards the coffee. I promise to make up for the bitchiness after that."

JC steps away, slowly, no sudden movements. He heads for the bedroom and the spare handkerchiefs, grabs one, grabs his hairbrush, and heads back out again. He clucks soothingly while Britney uses the hairbrush and the handkerchief, and realizes she does have the ponytail holders with the ducks on them with her. Pigtails and a handkerchief improve the hair situation greatly and suddenly the morning is a little brighter.

They decide taking the T two stops is acceptable when it's earlier than eight a.m. and launch themselves out onto the Orange Line and then promptly crash again the second their rears hit the orange seats. When they arrive at Chris's salon, Justin's locking up his bike and Joey and Chris are setting up a table inside. JC looks around a little as they move inside. "Where is everyone?"

Justin winks. "He volunteered for the supply run. The dudes Joey knows from the [Free Mumia](%20http://www.mumia.org)/[Anti-Death Penalty](%20http://www.amnestyusa.org/abolish/index.html) Brigade have a van. Or maybe it's not their van. I don't know, there's a van."

When he stops cursing loudly, Chris waves from underneath the table-- "yo"-- then he goes back to kicking the right leg, hard. JC's about to sit down next to Britney, but there's a honk outside and a large grey, blue, and maybe orange van is waiting for them. Supplies are unloaded and stacked on the table and the coffee is unloaded and greeted with whimpers of joy.

Introductions are made amidst the whimpers. These consist of Nick passing out coffee and nodding his head towards bodies. "That's JC, that's Britney, this is Brian, this is Cornell. People, I love you, but let me drink this coffee before you hate me."

Britney nods, "dude, yes" and they all slump in a corner for a bit.

Apparently Nick and AJ have been moving leftover furniture all week. Nick sighs and leans against JC. "I'm never moving again. My arms are so sore."

JC pets his head and hopes it's comforting while Cornell tells a story about the last time he moved and how the previous tenants left all their food in the fridge. "The smell, when we opened the fridge door. I never knew moldy food could be used as a weapon."

Justin nods, "God, yes. That's, like, the kid I'm living with now. Fucking food on the stove for a week. In the sink for a month." He shakes his head. "I mean, he could at least put some water in the pan."

"Oh no, man." Cornell shakes his head, "that's so not cool. You've gotta pre-soak."

"I'm saying! There's, like, basic levels of cleanliness required. Who gets raised to think that shit's okay?"

Thirteen minutes later, Britney declares that she's feeling human again and they get back up to set up. According to Chris, the first scheduled appointment of the day is at 10:15, but the salon opens at 9:30. Chris gets into hair mode and the rest of them debate table positioning and traffic flow.

"Hey, Joseph." Cornell leans up from fanning out flyers-- Justin and he firmly agree that flyers look so much better when fanned. "Where's your Kelly chick? You scare her off?"

Joey frowns and looks around the room. "Alright, who set that up? Because I know you and Brian don't know enough about Kelly to be mentioning her on your own."

JC blinks and pulls out his picture-of-innocence face, but Justin's chuckling a little guiltily. He elbows Cornell. "Nice delivery. Nice, very dead pan."

Cornell smiles, "thank you, I try. I was worried about the use of 'chick' though. Joey feels intense about that stuff. Could've been risky."

Justin frowns. "Maybe, but he knows you. You gotta say it how you'd say it."

Joey turns back to the table and unfans the flyers. "I'm ignoring the members of the peanut gallery currently talking about me like I'm not standing next to them. For anyone else who might be curious, Kelly is unable to attend today. She's babysitting. Or something."

"Aww." Nick frowns, or, JC thinks he's trying to frown, "don't worry man, you'll get your girl someday."

JC looks around. The salon-tabling-for-change brigade is getting the place a little crowded. "Are all of us staying all day?"

Brian shakes his head. "We're only doing pick up and drop off. I've got to work in between."

Cornell shrugs, "I can stay. I thought I'd stay." He looks around, "that okay?"

Justin nods, "yeah, yeah" and looks at Britney and Joey, then Nick and JC. Then at Joey, then at Nick and JC. Then at Britney, then at--

Britney rolls her eyes at JC and shrugs, "why don't you and Nick take off. Come back later in the day."

"Oh." JC frowns, "but you're tired."

Britney shrugs again. "Got to let the coffee wear off first. Go already, eat something, show that boy around so he doesn't get lost or killed or whatever."

"Um." JC looks over at Nick who just shrugs at him and grabs his bag. "Okay, I'll show you where the Scary Jesus Dude likes to lurk or something."

"Oh man," Cornell shudders. "You be careful. That man, he's got freaky friends now too." He turns back to the rest of the group. "Have you guys seen the new Abortion Is Murder lady? She's always got this 'pray for the murdered' tote-bag with her."

JC lets the door click behind them and looks at Nick. "Are you hungry?"

Nick shrugs, "yeah, I guess."

"Okay, this is one of the only times either of us will probably be awake early enough to go to [Sorella's](%20http://www.bostonphoenix.com/boston/food_drink/cheap/documents/02276975.htm%20) when there's no line, so I think we should take advantage of the opportunity." He looks at Nick. "Trust me. You'll thank me once you've been here longer and it's winter and we've been waiting in line outside for 45 minutes."

Nick nods, "okay, cool, " and an hour later JC's digging into the asparagus-havarti-garlic-basil omelet and Nick's eating the raspberry-banana-walnut pancakes.

JC steals some of Nick's pancakes and smiles. "So. You are officially moved. How's the job going?"

"Weird, good. It's kind of a novelty right now. I feel very, 'look mom I'm a grown up now!', but in a good way. I think."

JC nods, "that's cool, that's good."

"Yeah. Until the novelty wears off at least." Nick shrugs. "Whatever, it's cool. Um." He takes a swig of coffee and looks down at his plate. "I haven't written for a little bit. But they have all these writing groups. Student ones? And I'm gonna hook into one. I want to write, or try to write, at least once a week."

"Mmm." JC nods, "to book in time for it."

"Yeah, and see what comes out. I've started some stuff lately. That's better than doing nothing." Nick frowns. "I've never gotten blocked like this before."

"It makes sense though." JC leans on one elbow and watches Nick. "You've been stressed. You've had things you wanted to do, but you felt like you couldn't do them. Then everything starts getting clogged up and repressed. It makes sense."

"Yeah," Nick nods and puts his fork down. "I know. It just feels weird. Not comfortable." He looks down at the remains of his pancakes. "I'm so stuffed."

"But it was worth it, wasn't it?" JC grins. "I try to get something different whenever I come here. I still haven't eaten half the menu though."

"Um." Nick looks around at the walls and the fifty million dry-erase boards and chalkboards and pieces of paper with the fifty million meal options written out on them. "Which menu?"

"Well," JC shrugs, "most of the items are on the main menu. I mean, at least a quarter of them."

Nick smiles, "I'll take your word for it."

"Just be careful when ordering something with garlic. They're very energetic with it."

Nick makes a face, "I don't get garlic. It just makes you smell funny."

JC smiles and pushes his chair back, "don't tell Joey that, he'll go all Italian on you. Here, I'll be right back."

JC returns from the bathroom and Nick's drawing on his napkin. He sees JC, hops up, and grabs his bag. "Ready?"

"Yup."

"Think they'll have registered some folks by now?"

"Well, assuming Joey hasn't strangled Justin and Britney hasn't collapsed on her feet and that Cornell kid hasn't run away and hid from them all? I think so, yes. They're pretty persistent little buggers really. And Britney and Justin posses certain abilities. Well, they can charm the eyebrows off of most men, women, and children."

"Even when it's for voter registration and not eyebrows?"

"Oh, particularly when it's for voter registration and not eyebrows. Using the powers for good and not evil and all that."

 

At the salon-- and really, JC rather hates that word-- they're greeted with great joy by an exhausted Britney, even her pig tails are drooping.

"Save me," she waves a hand at Justin and Cornell, "those two have done nothing but discuss the death penalty and the unjust prison system for the past two hours. Oh, and apparently they're both members of the great vegan brotherhood. Please please tell me I can leave."

Nick murmurs appropriate and soothing things at Britney and JC feels a few warm fuzzies. It's nice to see other gay boys adopting his favorite fruit fly. Well, assuming Justin doesn't count as a fruit fly himself, but Nick seems to be liking him as well. Britney grabs her bag, tightens her pigtails and heads off for bed, her bed. JC looks at Justin and then Joey; their corner is all crowded again. Joey taps at the table.

"Why doesn't someone else go. Or the two of you. I mean, you've been here all day. JC and Nick can take over."

"Um," Justin looks at Joey, "you sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah," Cornell shoots Justin a look and nods, "I don't have to be anywhere."

Nick shakes his head, "we were gone for ages, you guys go. You must be starving, get food or something."

Justin looks at Cornell. "Um, I've been craving tofu scramble all week, you want to find some?"

Cornell smiles, "I just paid rent, so no eating out until payday. But I make a mean tofu scramble."

JC's never seen Justin move so fast ever. "Where do you live? How far? Can you teach people how to make it? Teach me how to make it, because JC's sucks and I want to learn. I've got my bike, can we still do it?"

Cornell chuckles and opens the door for him. "Yeah, your bike should be cool, just. We'll take it inside with us."

JC watches the door close behind them and Justin unlock his bike. Chris comes over after a bit, he's on break, and they get the intel on the upcoming date. JC feels a bit like rubbing his hands together with glee. He looks over at Nick. He's setting out more flyers and keeps blowing the hair out of his eyes, it's rather adorable. A girl with blue hair walks up to the table.

"Alright, yes, apathy sucks and just screws me over. Tell me how to register."

JC grins at her and begins his sales pitch.

 

 

 **Chapter 17: _Easy Ways to Earn a Merit Badge_**

Between the free drinks owed to those in attendance at the instant Thursday Night Dinner and the promising of thank you drinks to anyone willing to attend the early morning voter registration extravaganza, Joey owes folk a lot of alcohol. There are also many bodies clamoring for a Nick and AJ housewarming party. In the week since moving day, JC has collected pottery discards, and painted them a few JC Chasez original plates as well. Lance has journeyed into [Chinatown](%20http://www.cityofboston.gov/neighborhoods/neighborhoods.asp?id=11&image1.x=99&image1.y=5) and obtained a full wok kit, complete with wire skimmer, the giant cooking chopsticks, and a bamboo steamer. Britney's found strands of Virgin Mary lights at [Urban](%20http://www.urbn.com) and Chris used his eavesdropping skills to discover that AJ needed a new record needle and Nick could use more guitar string.

So there is to be a great Sunday night gathering, thanking, apartment-warming bash. However, in the days leading up to voter registration, Joey goes mother hen and becomes very concerned about the potential harms of AJ being around alcohol. Consulting commences across the phone lines of Boston until AJ tells them all to shut up already and let him take responsibility for his own damn self. The end verdict is that AJ requests the masses to go out and do most of the evening's drinking at [Midway](%20http://www.midwaycafe.com/%20) and then return to the Nick and AJ residence to finish the evening and christen the apartment.

 

At the JC and Lance residence, there's some tension in the air, but there's been some tension in the air for about a week now. There's been tension ever since a slightly older, slightly punk boy named Chris appeared at the workplace of one Lance Bass and left notes indicating that his presence was requested at a coffeeshop date two weekends later. JC has spent the days since Note Arrival Day watching Lance attempt to appear as nonchalant and calm as possible. And Lance tells him, frequently, tells everyone, frequently, that he's calm. Very very calm. And great, really, just great, thank you for asking. And that little incident with the black pants and the blue socks had nothing to do with anything but very poor lighting.

At the current moment, JC is trying to get the very calm and very great Lance Bass to get his Lance-ass out the door and onto the lovely public transportation system of the Greater Boston Area.

"JC, no really. You have to promise to help. He actually pulled me into Joey's bedroom when we were at dinner. Okay, granted, I didn't have to make out with him in there, but really, was I supposed to know he was getting so attached?"

JC grabs his bag and opens the front door. "Ready?

"I mean, he's a fairly attractive boy and I'm a healthy young man who enjoys kissing attractive boys-- and he kisses quite well really-- so no, I don't think I can be blamed for encouraging him or anything, really."

JC taps at the doorframe and steps into the hallway. "Mmm. Did you read his latest column. Really interesting stuff on the election. All about how we're all in this process together, in a system and have a voice, no matter what they'd like us to think. And how not voting and not participating in the process just means we're trying to make other people vote for us and not have responsibility for our fate. But how that just means we aren't trying for something better or something new and isn't that a shame really? I think it's sad. Good column, really. He's a smart kid." JC blinks, "oh, your hair's fine, can we go already?"

Lance sighs and tugs at the bottom of his shirt. "Yeah."

"Good boy."

 

Later in the evening, bodies pile across Nick and AJ's living room couches-- still angled. JC smiles and rubs at the couch cushion. He's feeling rather pleasant and buzzed and warm and comfortable. Nick's sitting next to him and they're watching as Justin attempts to show Britney how to knot a tie. He's using his belt though and it's not working very well.

After the demonstration, they engage in that oh-so-beloved party game known as "let's discuss our sex lives!" Britney curls up in AJ's lap and relates her trials with Wade's penis. It's rather small, rather demanding, and not very good at returning favors. AJ clucks at her and shows his tongue ring. "Honey, you need a boy with skills."

"Well," Justin grins, "at least one skill. That or get the boy some learning. It's not hard, it just takes dedication."

"Oh lord." JC rolls his eyes.

"Well," Justin snorts, "like you'd know."

"Fair, fair." JC shrugs, "but there are comparable areas of learning."

"Yes," Lance crosses his arms and leans back against the edge of the couch, "different part, similar dedication."

Joey's lying on the rug. He looks up at JC, "I don't think this is a debate and I'm not sure I'm in it, but if it is and if I'm in it, can I just remove myself? Everyone is love, man. Flowers and puppies and orgasms for all."

"Wimp." Chris pokes Joey and hops onto the couch next to Lance. "I feel quite sure that Lance is very dedicated. However Justin seems a very polite boy, I suspect he's dedicated too. We're all good boys and girls and the rest of the world sucks and is unworthy of good sex and that is that." Chris hops up again with a grin, "the apartment looks smashing. The lace doilies were a lovely touch." He looks back at the couch. "Lance, walk me home."

"Um." Lance's cheeks are very pink, but JC knows for experience that alcohol can do that to Lance, even in very small doses.

"Come on, I'll show you my towels. If you guess what color they are, you get a prize."

"Somehow that scares me more." Lance heads over to his bag, grabs it, and looks at the group. "You're all a vast conspiracy. I'm onto you, but I'll enact my revenge later."

 

Bodies disappear slowly. Well, probably not all that slowly. Probably in a cab all at once, but JC's sprawled out on the couch and it's warm and he's sleepy, so it seems like they disappeared slowly. AJ put Sleater Kinney on earlier and JC's feet are twitching along happily.

"Hey."

JC looks up and Nick is looking down at him. "Hey."

"Come on, it's late. I have to report to The Man at nine a.m."

Nick kills the stereo and pushes JC towards his bedroom. He's got green sheets, JC's rather pleased with them. Nick pulls on a different t-shirt and tosses one at JC, which is nice, thoughtful, because polyester can be rather prickly to sleep in.

"Thank you for the plates."

"You're quite welcome." JC pulls off his socks and flops into bed. "Wow. Tired."

"Yeah, well. We were up at a rather ungodly hour yesterday."

JC sighs, "the things you do for your friends."

"Well, that and for god and country and the children of our children's children." Nick lies down and pokes at his pillow. "Hey, you didn't take one."

"Well, they're your--"

Nick rolls his eyes and hits JC with the pillow in question.

"Okay then, taking the pillow."

"Good boy."

JC sighs. The room looks funny with the light out. There are boxes in the corners. He looks back at Nick, who smiles at him.

"You aren't, like, actually going to maintain the foot of space rule are you?"

JC blinks, his hand is between them. In the demilitarized zone. Mmm, not the best metaphor maybe. "Well."

"Yeah, I wouldn't if I were you. Seems very foolish. There's the need to preserve body heat and all that."

JC rolls over. "Isn't that, like, in the Antarctic?"

"It's good practice, you never know really."

Nick has very wide hands and very long fingers and JC's always had a weakness for poets. Besides, it's fall, it does get cold in the evenings.


	5. Part Five (Chapters 18-21)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta, badgering, handholding, and pompom waving provided by Ms. Katie. May her cigarettes never go stale.

 

 

 _"Now the centre of my so called being is  
The space between your bed and wardrobe with the louvre doors"_  
\-- "My Wandering Days Are Over," Belle and Sebastian

 

 

 **Chapter 18: _Life and Its Many Wonderful Surprises_**

JC was blissfully happy all morning. The day was sunny, he slept in, he tried the tip about adding yogurt to his pancakes and they did taste more like buttermilk. He didn't have to work anywhere, he just puttered, watched bad television, and went for a very long walk in the afternoon. He also thought about Nick a few times, maybe more than a few. He's got a hickey on his shoulder and he keeps touching it to make sure it's there.

Joey calls around seven. "I've got two frozen pizzas with your name on them boy-o. I'm coming over."

The pizzas are the ones with the artichoke hearts and the whole-wheat crust. The ones that JC rations himself on, because they're just slightly above budget. Or, tries to ration himself on. Joey pops them in the oven and winks. "Some old lady in a freaky-ass caftan started opening them all and then putting them back in the freezer. I thought you'd be pleased if I snagged some."

JC checks the clock when they're finished eating. It's almost nine. "Lance is late."

"Yeah, well, maybe we'll leave him some if he promises to be a good boy."

JC snorts, "or something. You know what's happening tomorrow evening?"

"JC, JC," Joey shakes his head. "How can you even ask? I think the whole world knows what's happening. In fact, I and many others will pay you good money if you promise to put a listening device in his coat or something so we can hear every word of conversation that takes place." Joey smirks at JC. "Then again, knowing you, you've already arranged it, pervy bastard."

JC leans back and smiles. "Fuck off about my highly traumatic innocent-bystander incident and maybe, maybe, I'll consider it."

JC's picking crumbs off his plate when he hears the key in the lock and sees the front door opening. Lance looks dazed. Or maybe pained. A cross between a train hitting him and a blowout sale at the French Connection.

Joey smiles at him. "There's leftover pizza in the kitchen, if you want."

Lance shakes his head and flops in between them on the couch. He closes his eyes. "He's the most manipulative, evil, calculating little freak I've ever encountered." Lance holds up his hand. "If either of you knew about this. Well, I don't even know what to threaten you with. Look at me, I'm a shell of myself, I'm so traumatized."

JC swallows. "Um." He looks at Joey. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Lance rubs a knuckle on his forehead. "Well, if you can wait two seconds, I can tell you." He pauses, takes a deep breath. "So. I'm finishing my shift this evening. I'm moving around, finishing up a table, enduring some 'ooo, Lance, big night tomorrow' teasing from the coworkers. I'm cool. I cash out and I'm grabbing my stuff when my manager taps me on the shoulder and points over at the door. And who, who JC, could possibly be over at the door?" He stares JC down, hand tapping on his knee.

"Um." JC blinks. "Santa?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "No. Not Santa. Mister Chris Kirkpatrick, looking cool as can be and all standing there, casually reading a book from the New Arrivals section."

"Okay." Joey nods and pushes a little closer.

"So I go over, I'm leaving anyway, whatever, and he closes his book, he puts it back on the shelf, turns to me and I'm told 'surprise Lance! I lied! we're going out tonight instead.'"

"No."

"Oh yes." Lance crosses his arms. "Oh. Yes. So then. Then he takes me to the food court at [Prudential](http://www.prudentialcenter.com/maps/maplower.html). He buys falafel, I manage with soup, and then we sit there for about three hours. He starts mocking annoying shoppers, I chime in with witty observations about men's dress habits, then he's got this whole theory about food service workers and I give my rant about globalization and the impact of America's rampant crop under-pricing on developing nations. Then we go to the [movies](http://ae.boston.com/movies/display?display=theater&id=21) and sit in the last row and he does unmentionable things to me throughout the whole last hour of the film."

JC coughs and looks at Joey. Joey coughs and looks at Lance.

"Okay, okay," Lance shakes his head, "yes I started that part. But guys, you know how I feel about movie theaters."

"Lance, you don't feel a certain way about movie theatres." JC pokes Lance's knee. "It's called a kink. Embrace it."

"Mmm, whatever," Lance looks down and picks lint off the knee. "Anyway, after all this. After all of this, what does he do? What does he do? He sends me home. Home! He says, and I quote, 'it's been lovely. Have a nice evening.'" Lance's voice is getting a bit high pitched. "Have a nice evening, what the hell is that? How is that appropriate behavior? We are clearly at invite level. I should have received an invite."

There is sputtering. It goes on for quite a bit. JC exchanges highly amused glances with Joey and Lance keeps talking about temporary setbacks and "the best plan moving forward".

"It's okay. I've thought this out." Lance nods to himself. "He had the element of surprise this time and it got me, but it's just temporary. I just need to reestablish my power level. Definitely."

"Freak." JC elbows him. "Do you listen to yourself? You're talking about people."

"Whatever," Joey leans back, "power levels my ass. I'll enjoy seeing you try."

Lance shakes his head. "It was a brilliant move, I'll give him that. I wish I'd thought of showing up early."

"You loved it," JC grins, "and you know it."

"Mmm." Lance smiles and leans his head back on the couch. "Perhaps. He's an interesting little puzzle. He's got a mini-mo going on right now too."

JC rolls his eyes at Joey. Power levels his ass, and Justin is just going to adore this story. He's trying to think of the best opening line, something about psychological warfare and people strategically foiling other people's attempts to destroy all romantic encounters. But then he's just left with "people, people who need people" stuck in his head. Joey snorts back at him and shakes his head. Stay tuned for the next exciting episode.

 

 

 **Chapter 19: _Sometimes You've Just Got To Sing It_**

Day fifty-two thousand six hundred and seventy-eight in Nick's introduction to madness of Boston. Okay, not day fifty-two thousand six hundred and seventy-eight, but JC likes it with the number, it feels more impressive. JC's tired, but that's to be expected considering that he's spent the whole day dealing with a dozen thirteen year olds and a pottery painting birthday party. Not his ideal theme party to be participating in, but his mom wanted him to take three friends to see _Amahl and the Night Visitors_ for his birthday in ninth grade, so he can't really criticize.

He's thanking god for lowering the chances of him ever ever propagating, and is very tempted to drop some of their plates when the children are ushered away, but he has places to go, people to see, songs to sing. Okay, yowl maybe, but it's more fun to yowl.

JC has a meet up arranged with the Britney. He heads over to her apartment and finds madam debating between a plaid skirt and pinstriped pants. She can't decide and while she retries them, JC changes into the after-hours clothing he's carefully packed in his bag. He argues for the pants, but eventually Britney decides they all suck and throws on a blue Nurse Betty dress. JC rolls his eyes, a young lad cursed to spend his life surrounded by astoundingly slow dressers. "Ready?"

 

They hit the [show down](%20http://www.weeklydig.com/?ContentId=2902) at nine. Nick's waiting for them outside with AJ and Lance and Chris are inside guarding a table and, more importantly, all the chairs. They're very organized really, in their own unique way.

Eventually drinks are obtained and the proper greetings exchanged, as well as a few polite head nods across the room to fulfill social obligations. Nick's shoved in next to JC and he leaves his shoulder against JC's side even when they're all situated. JC's got his foot leaning against Nick's chair leg. Chris winks at him.

There's a girl on stage flinging a purple boa about and singing "whaaaaaa choooo want. Baybe I got it!" She's quite painfully off-key, but quite obviously happy with her world. JC checks out the room and plays count the belt clips until she finishes.

AJ, lord of the karaoke, has placed his name on the list ages ago and on his turn he jumps up, grabs his Sinatra hat, and sings "weeeeeeeeeell I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body. I know not everybody, has got a body like yooou." He practically straddles the microphone and puts on quite the hip shimmy after the final verse. Britney sits back in her seat, grinning like an official appraiser on [_Antiques Road Show_](http://wgbh.org/schedules/program-info?program_id=24520).

"He does George Michael very very well. All he needs is a guitar and backup bodies. He's got all the required lead singer traits, he's certainly got the wriggly hips. Why are these things being wasted?"

JC raises an eyebrow.

"Hey, I know my lead singers when I see them. I have cultivated an eye."

Lance laughs. "Perhaps he needs you to show him along this new path. To give him the tour."

Britney frowns and looks back up at AJ. "I don't know about that. I think I'm more the end reward for those who choose to take the path."

"Oh, yeah," Chris snorts, "that's lovely. Very empowered. Want to meet my sisters and be a role model while you're at it?"

Britney flips him off and grabs at her cigarettes. "Bring them to Justin. He'll get 'em all good and liberal." She taps the pack against her wrist and looks around the room. "Where the hell is he anyway? He's usually all over the karaoke."

"He left a message about Cornell and a flyer distribution delay. They're coming once the crisis has been dealt with." Chris picks at the label on his Bass. "What's the deal with those two anyway?"

"Joey knows him," Lance shrugs, "they're in that prisoners thing."

"No," Chris shakes his head, "with them, them. With Justin and him. Is it a thing?"

"Um, Justin?" JC blinks. "You mean, like, a sex thing?"

"Yeah."

JC frowns. "With a boy?"

"Wait," Chris looks at Lance, "I'm confused. Isn't he all bisexual and shit?"

"Oh, I so have a rant here," Lance rolls his eyes. "Yes, right, he's sooooo bisexual. Whatever. He's never even looked at a guy. Just ask JC, he knows."

"I don't know," JC shrugs. "He's just always said that he wants to be all open to possibility, but that's all he's ever said. He's never done anything."

"I'm not sure about that," Britney frowns at him. "He might just be not talking about things that much. He's checked out an ass or two. Maybe he's embarrassed. Maybe it's just private."

"Britney, the last time you were convinced someone was bisexual it was that Ashley kid and we all know how that turned out."

"Well okay, yes. But there were conflicting signals there. He was all listening to Madonna and painting his fingernails."

"No." Lance holds up his hand. "I think I've made a decision. I officially hate Madonna. We should all go forth and hate Madonna. Anyone, anywhere, remotely rainbow colored, coated, or friendly. Hmm," Lance frowns, "should we hate Morrissey too?"

"No," Nick looks pained. "I refuse to hate Morrissey. That's just evil."

"Yes," JC nods, "that's harsh, too harsh. And what would be next? Can't we all just hate Ricky Martin? I'm waaay for that."

"Well," Lance shrugs, "I would hope we all already hate him."

"Yes," Chris nods, " I think there was a test at the door."

There's a pause and Lance frowns. "I'm trying to think of a second person or group appropriate for hating, but nothing is coming. The most appropriate thing I can think of is Suede, but they're really last decade. I'm not even sure you can even affect your scene points for liking or disliking them these days."

"Besides," Britney shakes her head. "More bad PR for your image right now. Potentially another political bisexual there."

"Yes," Lance rolls his eyes, "that was kind of the connection I was going for with the reference."

Chris frowns. "Well, I think--"

"Okay, wait wait," JC leans into the table. "Before he digs a little offensive grave for himself, you have to understand that Lance got rather viciously dumped by a bi-curious type a little while back and he's never quite recovered his pride. However, despite being all traumatized, I can assure you that some of his best friends are bisexuals."

"Even Justin?"

"Yes, but," JC shrugs, "Justin sleeps with girls. I mean, unless he's slept with heaps of people and hidden a secret life from me."

Chris squints at Lance. "Okay, so, I don't have to take you on some diversity and respect training with a unit of volunteer bisexuals? Because you're kinda turning me off there."

Lance looks down and picks at the edge of the table. "No, you don't," he sighs. "I don't think anyone needs to choose sides or hate Madonna either." Lance leans back and looks across the room at the stage. "You going to go up and sing?"

"Mmm." Chris tilts his head at him and crosses his arms. "You just changed the subject."

"Yes, yes I did. I'm clever at that."

Nick smiles. "Subtle about it too."

"No no," Chris smiles, "It's cool. I'll accept your subject change and raise you one. I'll go up and sing if you go up and sing."

"No," Lance shakes his head. "I watch karaoke. I serve in the important role of support services. I do not actually do karaoke." He looks up and grins towards AJ as he sits down. "You were awesome. Britney thinks you have great lead singer potential."

AJ grins at her. "Aww. Baby, you're so sweet."

"Yeah, well," Britney taps her cigarette into the ash tray, "don't let it go to your head."

"No no, I won't." AJ sits down and steals Nick's water. "Lord, I'm thirsty."

JC shifts back in his chair and looks around again. Justin's walking over towards them, gesturing something at Cornell.

"I'm just saying," Justin waves a hand at JC. "There's got to be some option somewhere that doesn't involve small children and sewing machines."

Cornell shrugs and inserts himself into a chair. He smiles around at the table, "hey," then nods towards Justin. "He thinks he's gonna find an ethical and acceptable looking sneaker to replace his Converses, now that they've [gone all third world](http://chucksconnection.com/articles/ConverseArt07.html) with the manufacturing."

"Oh no," JC laughs, "I am not, not, getting involved in that debate. He's been talking about replacing his sneakers for two months now. And they have to be vegetarian too."

"Well," Cornell smiles, "I'd have to agree on the vegetarian aspect of the shoe. But," he smirks at Justin, "he'd probably insist that he get to call them vegan and not vegetarian."

"Well, yes." Justin coughs. "Despite your attempts to mock me, I'd say that vegans should get to call their shoes vegan. I mean, accuracy in labeling."

"Does that matter?" Lance sighs. "They're probably still made by small children. And kittens."

"Look," Justin sits next to Chris. "They can't all suck. They can't, it's not right."

Cornell frowns. "That's kind of the point, isn't it? It is all of them, the world is falling to the dark side, etc etc. There is no spoon and there are no shoes."

Justin shakes his head. "That's just so negative. We've got to have more positivity going on. I mean, what happens if we let the world just fall to the dark side and exploit the kittens?" He looks around the table and stops on Britney's cigarettes. "Britney, my favorite lady." Justin grins at her and bats his eyes, she throws the pack at him. "We totally missed dinner getting those flyers out. Anyone else up for chips and salsa?" Justin pulls out matches and gets his cigarette lit on the first attempt.

 

Chips are obtained and eaten. Chris goes up to sing "The Right Stuff", then gets on down and does the New Kids dance. Sort of. Apparently Lance finds this either very appealing or embarrassing, because he drags Chris out as soon as he's finished. JC's not sure if this is all part of restoring power levels or not, but they don't even wait to say goodbye to Britney who's snuck off to powder her nose. The traditional version of nose powdering, not the modern one. Or, JC's pretty sure it's not.

When Britney comes back, AJ drags her up to sing. There's some kicking and screaming at first, but then the music starts and AJ's grinning the lyrics to "Suicide Blonde" at her. JC feels rather proud poppa watching them, all the children bonding. At some point in the middle of all this, Britney gets her hands on AJ's hat. She rocks out in that for a while back at the table. JC and Nick volunteer to fetch drinks and somehow get everything back to the table without spilling. A group of rockability kids do a _Grease_ medley onstage. It's a bit clichÿ, but they went and memorized choreography for it, so points for that.

Cornell isn't talking heaps, but he looks generally amused. He continues to dispute Justin's sneaker theory when it comes up again. About two minutes into that conversation, AJ spots some folks he'd very seriously like to avoid and they all collect their belongings and head out.

Turning towards the bus stop, JC looks over at Justin and realizes he's turning in the other direction. "Where are you off too?"

Justin looks at Cornell. "I've got to get my bike. I left it at Cornell's place.

"Hey," Nick tugs at JC's shirt. "Don't take the bus home. Ride the T with us."

Justin grins at him. "See, there you go." He winks at Cornell. "Aren't they cute?"

JC rolls his eyes and winces a little, but Cornell puts his hand on Justin's shoulder and walks him away. "Leave them alone. You're too smug for your own damn good."

JC turns and looks at Nick. He's a little pink, but AJ is poking him and asking if it looks like rain, because he thinks he heard it would, and then they're on the T and JC's kind of shoved against Nick's arm again. He's sleepy, but it's only two more stops.

 

 

 **Chapter 20: _Nice, Well Rounded Individuals_**

JC's never hooked up with a nine-to-fiver before. Well, not for extended periods of time, at least. He's starting to like it somewhat. JC's schedule changes in small ways each week, but if he gets out at one on a Saturday, he knows that Nick's probably still in the vicinity of his living room. Or, if JC's working on a Tuesday, when the bookstore is open until seven-thirty, chances are good that Nick will appear to meet him by six, looking very corporate casual.

JC works all day Friday and gets out of Saturday. By lunchtime he's starving and bored. Clearly he needs to visit Nick. He checks his mail on the way out and there's a letter from Tony. He's in a letter-writing phase. There are several less than vague Nick inquiries and a "are you getting to know one another better?" comment that JC can just hear the leer on. Tony has an eye for these things; JC doesn't.

During his first year of college, when JC went home for winter break, Tony drove him, Keri, and some random girl to the winter show at school. They all snuck in the back, saw their old teachers, and tried to look very very old and impressive. That was the last time JC heard Nick do a reading, something about liking the smell of oranges. Back then, Tony was talking about Keri like something was coming which he was sure of. JC just remembers wondering when Nick had dyed his hair.

 

Nick answers the door in skull and crossbones boxers. JC stares, but Nick still doesn't look anything like the person he knew in high school. Nick waves his hand at JC, "I'm awake, really," but his light isn't on yet and his bed looks like it might still be warm.

JC pushes Nick back to bed and pulls off his shoes. "Were you out late?" He lies down, and tucks his elbows around Nick's sides.

"Nope." Nick shakes his head. "I just woke up too early. Mom called at seven or something. Before eight."

"Yeah?" JC sneaks his hand around until it's on Nick's elbow.

"I think she was saying hello?" Nick pushes his forehead into the pillow. "I can never actually tell. There's always a series of questions and comments attached. Apparently I should be very thankful I had connections get a job for me or something. Because most people. Well, I don't know. I kind of tuned out."

JC sighs and taps his thumb on Nick's elbow. "She kind of sucks, Nick."

"Yeah. Kind of does." Nick shrugs. "Whatever." He turns around and slides his hands onto JC's back. "You're really warm." His eyes are closed. "Give me twenty minutes. I promise to be awake after that."

JC wakes up at one-thirty and Nick's still sleeping. He heads towards the kitchen and, after looking all over the refrigerator for the peanut butter, he finds it in a cabinet. Refrigeration-Not-Required peanut butter confuses him.

Pretty soon he's got toast on a plate in one hand, a knife and a jar of peanut butter in the other. He heads back towards Nick's room and now Nick is lying on his back, blinking. He looks skeptically at JC. "Look, I know you're fond of that stuff, but that container better be intended for whatever's on that plate."

JC frowns and starts spreading peanut butter on a slice. "That's just sick. That's an insult to my beloved protein substitute. You cause it pain and trauma."

"I apologize," Nick swipes the piece from him and grins. "I won't accuse you of these things again."

"Good," JC nods and starts spreading peanut butter on the other slice. He looks up at Nick, "I haven't seen you in days and days. Tell me about something."

"I know what I can tell you." Nick swallows, licks peanut butter off his finger, and flops onto his stomach. "I went to that workshop group on campus. The open one?"

"Yeah?"

"So the person that runs it is some teaching fellow at the school, that's all I know. But I'm early and the other kid there is telling me they've been meeting for a while, they keep it under ten people, yadda yadda. Then he goes, 'oh, here he is' and I turn around and it's Chris. Like, Lance and Justin's Chris."

"No."

"Yes! Like, it's Professor Kirkpatrick Chris."

"No!"

"Yup!"

JC puts the plate on the floor and crosses his arms. "I thought he was cutting hair this whole time! He hasn't said shit about another job."

"Well, apparently he's got two jobs. And a PhD in English."

JC tugs at his hair. "I feel very rocked. One, he's never even mentioned. Two, he has never even mentioned."

"I guess Justin knows? But I think Chris was enjoying fucking with Lance a little too much to bring it up." Nick snorts. "We were talking after? And Chris says, about Lance, Chris says he thinks 'Lance has great potential'. God, JC, you should have heard the inflection on potential. Those two are my new favorite thing ever."

"Lance keeps going on about power levels, but I think the battle there is long over."

"Yeah, they just don't know they're into the restoration and aftermath portion already. Or they're having too much fun fucking with each other. Something like that." Nick pushes over and onto JC. "Hey."

"Hey."

"So, the workshop went well. The end." He pokes JC's side. "You want to do anything today?"

"Well, I've got to go to the library at some point."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." JC squiggles a bit. "But there seems to be someone trying to remove my pants."

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Well, it's probably a little hard to see, considering that they're lying on top of me, instead of letting me just get up and pull them off."

"Oh, well then. In the interest of facilitating." Nick rolls off and onto his back.

JC hops up and stares at Nick's legs. "I love those boxers."

"Yeah," Nick picks at the edge of them. "Some of the skulls glow in the dark."

"Oooo," JC throws his pants in the corner, "I'm jealous," he rubs at his shoulder.

"Mmm, you should be." Nick sits up. "I'm over here here here. You are not. This is sad. Hey, look, that was almost a poem."

JC shakes his head. "I hope not."

"Hey," Nick pouts, "some people find poetry romantic."

"Yeah," JC pushes his hand up Nick's back and his mouth into Nick's neck. "Stop talking already, it's distracting."

Nick sighs, "okay," and pushes his nose over towards JC's to kiss him. "You taste like peanut butter."

"Yeah, you do too." JC sits back. "Preferences today? Top or bottom?"

Nick looks at JC and grins. "Mmm, bottom today I think." He lies back, "you know where the supplies are by now, or do I need to fetch them?"

JC sighs. "I have to take off my own pants, find the lube, fetch the condom, do the boy. I think this is setting dangerous precedents." JC hops up again and sticks his hand into Nick's bureau.

"Weren't you the one bitching about too much talking earlier?"

"Um. No." JC throws the lube at Nick. "Start that your damn self."

"Fine," Nick grins, "can you manage to get that condom on or do you need help with that to-- oh, hello."

Nick's got two fingers in his ass and is looking pleased. He wriggles a little at JC and JC coughs. This should not be this hot. Okay, maybe it should be. JC kneels back down over Nick and pushes his hair back. "Hey."

"Hey." Nick pushes himself up on his arms to kiss him. JC leans into it, his fingers resting on Nick's chest, his little finger tapping. He leans up again and moves his hand down Nick's side, onto the sheet and finds the lube again.

"Wouldn't want to be hasty, would we?"

Nick rolls his eyes. "No, can't have that." He spreads his legs a bit more, as JC slides fingers into him. "God, you're definitely better at that then I am."

"Well, I went through a slightly wanton clubbing phase in my youth. Visited [Campus](http://www.bostonphoenix.com/supplements/the_best/00/text/AR_GAY_NIGHT.html) every week and all that."

"Really? We should talk about that more at some point. You can tell me stories. Um," Nick shifts again as JC pulls his fingers out, "but later?"

"Probably best." JC leans down again, touches Nick's knee, his side. Moving his hands down Nick's body until they're on his thighs. Nick's eyes close when JC pushes into him. "Wouldn't want to be distracting."

Nick is quiet for a minute. He takes a deep breath and JC leans down onto Nick's chest, hums into his shoulder until Nick says, "hey, come up here," and kisses JC more. JC believes in multitasking, Nick is very good at that. He grins at JC and starts to jerk himself off, his arm tight between them. Nick pushes his knees up higher suddenly and JC lifts his face, smiling.

"That was a very nice move."

Nick pushes up more, spreads his knees further. "That? Nicer?"

"Yes." JC is having slightly harder time talking now and Nick doesn't answer for a while, just breathes into JC's skin. He's warm, moving closer each time JC pushes into him. Nick closes his eyes again and grabs at JC's shoulder, pulling his face closer and kissing him.

"Quick. Just."

JC pushes in again, harder, spreads his fingers out on the mattress and watches Nick's face, eyes opening and closing. Nick's other hand tightens on JC's shoulder, his hips push up and then he's coming, falling back and pulling JC with him; suddenly just a little more relaxed, everything looser. Nick moves his hands down to where JC's pushing into his body. "See? I can be helpful." He pushes up again with his hips, hands on JC's ass. JC feels almost sleepy, everything warm and slow, until he's slipping down onto Nick's chest, finished.

Nick's hands keep moving on JC"s skin. Down, almost to JC's knees and then back up again to his shoulders, rubbing lightly. JC's warm, he's got his head tucked into Nick's neck again, he likes that spot.

"Mmm," Nick turns his head a little and licks at JC's neck, smirking. "You have a very capable penis."

JC reaches his hand out and swats what might be Nick's hip, he's not lifting up his head to look yet. Nick pulls him a little closer.

"Ten minutes?"

Yeah," JC yawns, "but just ten. I want to go to the library and make out in the stacks."

 

 

 **Chapter 21: _The Next Step Is Taking Him to Meet the Parents_**

The last Friday of the month. JC's reminded all supervisors and managers about twenty million times that they've promised not to schedule him to work and then he forgets to turn off his alarm from the day before. So there's some annoyance and groaning when he's standing up and shutting it off at ten and he could have crammed in another hour's worth of sleep at least.

However, there is regrouping. JC is very good at regrouping. Waking up early means he needs coffee and he's feeling hungry too, so he pulls on the clothes he wore the day before and slogs over to Dunkin Donuts for a very large coffee and egg and cheese on a bagel. Why this always feels like the breakfast of champions JC isn't sure, but he drags it home, changes back out of the clothes, watches Dr. Phil and eats the bagel/protein combo.

At about the quarter mark in the coffee, he's got enough in him to realize that he is actually watching Dr. Phil. He recoils, gasps, cringes, prays that no one ever ever saw him doing it, and searches frantically for the remote. Flipping takes place, lots of it. Weekday [morning television](http://tvlistings4.zap2it.com/partners/grid.asp?partner_id=boston) kind of sucks. But then, suddenly there are about four episodes of _The Real World_ in a row and it's almost two hours later and he's almost going to be late. This time he just pulls on the jeans from the day before and he figures half a clean outfit is better than none.

 

By one pm he's waiting at the Downtown Crossing [platform](http://www.mbta.com/traveling_t/change.asp?pic=downtowncrossphoto.gif&staname=Downtown%20Crossing%20Station). Or, JC thinks it's one pm, he's forgotten his watch. He waits in one of the marble/granite/stone-something seats and hums along to _Pablo Honey_ until he sees Justin walking towards him.

"Hey!" Justin hops at him in greeting, "Britney not here yet?"

"Nope," JC pulls out his discman and carefully turns it off, "you surprised?

"No, but I'm tempted to go up and sneak a cigarette." Justin sighs and pushes in next to JC. He unclips his bag and starts rummaging through it until he pulls out a banana. "I'm starving. I totally overslept and ran here. "

"I woke up at ten and snuck to Dunkin. Bagel, egg, cheese," JC pets his stomach, "carbs and protein do a body good."

Justin peels his banana. "Notice me not saying anything about that protein source and eating my banana."

JC grins, "yes I do. The world thanks you."

Justin finishes, carefully wraps his banana peel in a napkin and tucks it into his bag. He leans his head against JC's shoulder.

JC pokes him. "What's up kiddo? I haven't seen you in ages."

"Yeah, yeah, you're all getting your groove on. I know how these things go." JC frowns and Justin hits him. "I'm teasing you dork. Things are cool. I still hate my psych professor, but I'm gonna do a photo project with Cornell for a lark. I think I'm wearing him down with my message of positivity and containing the dark side."

"Oh, really?"

"Well, he started calling me Ewok, but it hasn't scared me off yet. I'm stronger than that."

A flood of people start heading onto the platform and JC spots Britney in the distance. Justin hops up, "You hottie, get your ass over here. Where the hell were you?"

"Mmm." Britney shakes her hips at him and hugs them both. "I had a call from The Momma for gods sakes. Sorry, those are kind of unavoidable."

"Ug," Justin frowns, "yes. But why do they do these things on Friday mornings? Cornell's mom calls him every Monday before ten. Every Monday."

Britney shrugs. "One of god's little mysteries."

A train races in and they all hop on it. A few T stops and a shortcut through the Marriott later, they're walking up the stairs to [The Garment District](%20http://www.garment-district.com/camb/index_camb.htm%20). They're checking their bags when Justin hits JC. "Hey! What were we thinking, we didn't bring Nick!"

Britney shakes her head. "He works nine to five and all that."

"Oh." Justin frowns, "we should have rescheduled or something. We've, like, failed in our obligations as welcome wagon types."

JC shrugs, "whatever. Like we need to be dragged back or anything. This is our regular outing. Besides, this way I can tell you all about the sex."

"Hmm." Britney links her elbow in his. "Yes. I think you speak with great wisdom." She holds out her arm and Justin hooks into her other elbow. "Now, which section first? I need pants, I vote pants."

JC nods, "I'm cool with pants," and Justin doesn't look pained.

Partway through the rack of painter's pants, Justin sticks his head around the side at JC. "So, there's been sex? There's been how much sex?"

"Hey," Britney shouts from a row over. "No talking about that without me!"

JC rolls his eyes. "Do we have to do this and shout at the same time?"

Britney scurries over with a stack of pants under her arm. "Oh, no one's listening. Here, come with me and try stuff on. You can tell us there."

They head over to the dressing rooms. Well, dressing cubbies maybe. Most of them are full, because they're always mostly full, and JC sits down between Britney and Justin's areas, staring down a girl with green dreadlocks who's glaring like he cut her in line.

After a minute, Britney throws a shirt at him. "I don't want it, but I think it'll fit Justin. Hey," she sticks her head out at him, "keep talking."

"Um. Well. He's got these boxer shorts with glow in the dark skulls on them."

"Nice," Justin shouts from over the curtain, "I've always wanted glow-in-the-dark underwear."

"Yes," JC coughs, "he also says that I have a very capable penis." JC's a little fond of that statement.

"Okay, what?" Britney sticks her head back out, looking down at JC's waist, eyebrow raised. "How capable is it?"

"Apparently very," JC grins.

"But you, JC," Justin calls out. "Are you equally pleased?"

"Yes." JC wonders if it's wrong that he suddenly tastes peanut butter. "I'd say he's equally capable. And, you know, boxer shorts cooler that mine."

"Hmm," Britney comments, "I always though you were the boxer-briefs type."

Justin comes out in baby blue cords. "Okay, be honest. They're too much aren't they?"

"Well," JC frowns. "I mean, I'd wear them. Britney?"

Britney looks out. "Well, I'd still do you. But if you're concerned, what about seeing if there's a plaid with some blue in it?"

Justin keeps touching his thigh. "They're so soft though."

JC nods. "If you wear them with the right t-shirt, I think you're all good."

"Yeah, just wear them with something nasty."

"Okay," Justin heads back in.

Britney appears again, back in the clothes she arrived in, and JC trades places with her. He's only got two pairs of pants to try and figures out that neither fit in about two seconds. He leaves again and Britney shakes her head. "How do you do that so quickly?"

JC shrugs. "How do you take so long?"

 

Justin comes out again and they all head over to the shirt racks. Justin is looking very determined. "I need to find another button-down and a new hoodie. I left mine at this party Cornell's friend had last week and it's gone. Fuckers."

"Which one," JC frowns. "Not the one with all the 'eat not the cheese' patches on it?"

"Oh yes. That very one." Justin is pouting. "I'm pissed. I need to come up with a new decoration concept now and everything. It had holes in all the right places too."

"Oh. I could get people to sign it for you." Britney holds up a green cowgirl shirt. "When we go to shows?"

"Nah," Justin shakes his head. "I think autographs aren't really my thing. But that might be kinda cute for you."

"Oh, yeah," JC nods, "get one that's all pink and cute and have everyone sign it."

"I could put little tick marks next to the names too," Britney winks. "Like a to-do list?"

"Oh, that's horrible," Justin covers his ears, "not listening."

"Child," Britney rolls her eyes, "you are way too invested in roses and monogamy."

"Now now, children." JC crosses his arms and looks at them sternly. "You have chosen different paths in life. That does not mean they can't co-exist in harmony."

Justin turns to Britney and nods. "I respect your path Britney."

"And I yours."

 

JC's arm deep in t-shirts when Britney brings up Nick again. "So, now, this Nick fellow. Are you a Thing or is this just at thing?"

"I don't know." JC shrugs and passes a _Friends Don't Let Friends Listen to Rap Metal_ t-shirt over to Justin. "I don't know. We're nice. We're good. Whatever."

"Hey," Justin tosses another shirt back at JC. "I hear from Chris that the secret's out about his teaching gig."

Britney tackles the polyester rack. "His what?"

"Yeah," JC nods, "Chris cuts hair and then molds the minds of youth at Harvard University in his spare time. Ooo." He pulls a yellow submarine shirt from the pile. "Nick joined his writing group. I haven't said anything to Lance yet, though."

"So, wait. He's in school? No, he's too old. He actually teaches there?"

"Yeah, english and writing stuff. So it's not just the online blog stuff."

"That I vaguely knew about." Britney pushes another shirt over and looks up. "He's got articles in the little papers sometimes. There was a whole thing on Menino a little while back."

"Yeah, well," Justin picks up his clothing pile and leans against JC, "he does that and he's also really good at cutting hair."

"Yes," JC pets his hair, "that he is."

 

Two hours later, they're downstairs at [Dollar-A-Pound](%20http://www.garment-district.com/dollar_lb/dollar_a_pound.htm%20). JC's hunting through cds A through F and Britney's braving the clothing heap on the floor. Justin watches over JC's shoulder and doesn't touch much. He's not as fond of this area. He always says he wants to wash his hands afterwards.

"You know, I asked Cornell if he wanted to come along and he said he'd never been. Isn't that wild?"

"Well," JC frowns, "not so much. This isn't the most diverse place on the planet."

"You think?" Justin frowns and looks around. "I guess so, yeah."

"Boston kind of sucks like that."

"Well," Justin sighs, "the whole world kind of sucks like that. That's weird though, we always just come here." He taps his fingers on the cds. "Though. I guess I could go to, like, [Hip Zepi](%20http://www.bostonphoenix.com/boston/news_features/urban_buy/documents/02169493.htm) or something for my velour fetish and I certainly don't do that either. Hmm," Justin bites his lip. "

"Well, you could though. There's the option."

"Yeah, but wow. It doesn't really feel allowed does it? God." Justin frowns. "Well, we'll see."

"Yeah. And hey, maybe he'll be around when we bring Nick here?"

"Who?" Britney pops in, she's got a skirt and a belt in her hands.

"Cornell." Justin eyes the belt. "Silver, nice."

"I know," she grins. "I'm ready, are you two all set?"

JC looks at the cds and shrugs, he' still just on Ea. "More like, do I have any energy left to look. And no."

They drag their bags out of the place and lean against the side of the building, right against the pink stripe. Justin pulls out his cigarettes first and hands one to Britney. "I stole, like, four from you the other night. You need to bum from me today."

"Your smoker's etiquette is impeccable as always," Britney smiles at him. "You should give classes.

Justin bows, then steals her lighter. They shift around JC so he's upwind and he looks up. It's still pretty light out, but it's getting darker. "What time is it?"

"Five-o-clock, I think," Justin looks at his watch. "Five-o-five."

Britney's stomach growls, loudly. "Good lord, I need food. Stat."

"Yes," Justin grins, "and JC still hasn't told us all about the sex."

"Very true," Britney nods, "and that Nick is a pretty pretty boy. I think we need more detail."

"I think I'm just going to lie." JC rolls his eyes. "Or, you can buy me food and I'll tell you everything."

"We'll see what you want to eat," Britney grins. "Then we can negotiate."

"Or," Justin pushes off the wall with his foot. "We could walk over to the [movie theater](http://www.landmarktheatres.com/Market/Boston/KendallSquareCinema.htm) and just eat lots of popcorn."

"I've got a show to go to later," Britney shakes her head. "But I'm totally craving popcorn now."

"Okay," JC holds up a hand. "Idea? They're the closest place anyway. Let just walk there and get popcorn--"

"And coffee," Justin interrupts, " I need coffee."

"Okay," JC nods, "popcorn and coffee. And maybe one of those [clove cookies](http://www.dancingdeer.com/store/prodinfo.asp?number=CO-MOLASSE&variation=&aitem=4&mitem=16) that they have too. But, point, we just get food and skip the movie."

"Works for me," Britney picks up her bag again, "ready?"

Justin shrugs and takes one last drag. "Yup." He looks back at JC and they all start walking, a block later he links arms with Britney and they both look over at JC.

"So, how does he define capable?"


	6. Part Six (Chapters 22-26)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta, crystal ball, and glimpses at character's inner psyche provided my Ms. Katie and much appreciated. This one's for you wench.

 

 

 _"And the photo booth strip,  
and the letter you wrote  
they feel like nothing I could hold"_  
\-- "A Quarter to Three," Sleater Kinney

 

 

 **Chapter 22: _Mix Tapes Require Extensive Preplanning_**

It's very November out. JC's cold, because he wore the denim jacket and no sweater, but he was having matching issues when he woke up. Well, matching issues among the clean laundry. He's meeting Justin downtown for some quality time but walking up [Mass. Ave.](http://www.mbta.com/traveling_t/change.asp?pic=massavephoto.gif&staname=Massachusetts%20Avenue%20Station), teeth chattering just a wee, all he wants is coffee. Or maybe hot chocolate.

Justin's waiting for him on Upper Newbury at [the stoop](%20http://www.bostonphoenix.com/supplements/the_best/01/cr4.html%20). There are several piles of people slumped about the place. JC walks up behind Justin and some vaguely familiar looking boy who's apparently very concerned about the imminent move of the [Victor Hugo Bookshop](%20http://www.epinions.com/trvl-review-4651-205D572A-3A4F5EA5-prod4). Rent issues, everything in Boston is subject to rent issues, probably even god.

JC nudges Justin's shoulder and he turns, grins, and hugs JC hello. Justin nods at his cigarette, "almost finished," and then at the other boy. "Chad's upset about the move."

JC frowns and waves his arm at the store. "Aren't they just moving up the block?"

"Yes," Chad adjusts his hat and nods, "but it's a principle thing. They shouldn't have to move at all. They're an institution. The spot existed there, for years, waiting for that store to move into it."

"I hear you," Justin nods, "really. I'm just not sure it's realistic. I mean, how long were they going to last there, on two levels? And they're just moving up the block."

"I know," Chad frowns, "I just don't like it." He doesn't say anything more and another kid rolls up on a skateboard and waves towards them until Chad wanders over to him.

JC looks at his shoes, he's still cold. Justin throws down his cigarette butt. "Where first?"

"I really want hot chocolate."

"Dude," Justin frowns, "why didn't you say? You could've gone and come back or something." JC shrugs at him. "Dork."

JC's saving his money for the shopping portion of the day, so he drags Justin down to the CityCo for their hot chocolate machine. It tastes vaguely coffee-like, but he likes it that way.

"Okay," Justin steps around a tourist and rolls his eyes, "now where to?"

"[Newbury Comics](%20http://www.lanceandeskimo.com/guest/newbury.shtml%20), I'm experiencing music deprivation."

JC has this problem with listening to certain songs over and over on his cds. It means that currently his copy of _Off the Wall_ skips in about three places on "Workin' Day and Night" and that he needs to completely replace _Louder than Bombs_ before he dies of longing and grief.

Justin seems to be listening to all of this sympathetically while leaning over a records bin. But JC is noticing that Justin's also kind of avoiding looking at him directly. Except when JC's not looking straight at Justin, then he seems to be staring and fidgeting. JC tests the situation when Justin turns to the S-V pile, he pretends to look at White Stripes albums-- taking great public risk to himself, as they seem to only be stocking _White Blood Cells_ \-- then looks sort-of left and through his hair at Justin. And yes indeedy, Justin's biting his lip and kind-of tapping at a Refused album which JC knows he already owns and doesn't really like.

JC waits for it, can tell something's coming, but when Justin coughs, says "um," and sorta kinda casually says "so, it's time for me to ask to be told more about the whole lube thing" JC does a complete 180 and practically collapses into the WXYZ bin. This mainly makes Justin blush a lot, and also laugh at JC like a normal Justin would, which takes body switching off the list of possibilities.

"It's just," Justin coughs again and gives JC his serious face, "it's important that I do these things properly. That we do. And while I'm very clear on the general concepts of boy/boy touching, I don't have the whole range of life experiences that others do." He grins at JC. "And no way am I talking to Lance first about this shit."

"So," JC rubs at his neck and is attempting to put clear sentences together. "Apparently the whole bisexual thing. Not just about open-mindedness and fucking with the American social dating system?"

"What?" Justin puts his cds down and glares. "Fuck you, is that what you were thinking?"

"Well," JC fidgets at him. "I mean, it's not like you ever liked anybo--"

"Fuck," Justin picks up his cds again, "fuck you. Just because I don't share everything doesn't mean you can just assume." He puts the cds down again on a different shelf and then hands the top one to JC. "What the hell? How. I'm so upset with you right now."

"It's not," JC looks down, he's holding something by The Bangles, which confuses him slightly until he passes it back to the pile and regroups. "Okay, shit. Is this with Cornell? You want to know about lube?" JC rubs his hand through his hair. He wonders if he said lube too loudly. 'Fuck man, I just didn't think this day was going to come anytime soon. Just let me."

"Good lord," Justin rolls his eyes, "lets go back outside." JC nods at this and they head back to the sidewalk. Justin tugs on JC's bag and pulls them over towards Trident and back from the street. "I told you I was bi. I've always said I was bi. You've heard me saying this since I was, like, two years old and a tadpole."

"I know, I just didn't."

"What, pay attention to me?" Justin drops his bag on the sidewalk and starts digging. He pulls out cigarettes and looks at JC. "You want one too?" JC shakes his head and Justin pulls out his lighter. "It's not like this shit is easy to ask about man. I mean, I feel like I'm thirteen again or something."

"Okay, okay." JC backs up and leans against the brick wall to attempt regrouping. There's a lady with a red handbag and purple shoes buying a pot of grass and one daisy at the florist next to them. She winks at him. JC isn't quite sure why someone would buy a pot of grass. He holds out his hand, "Can I? Just a little," and Justin hands over his cigarette so JC can take a drag. He pulls it in and the smoke tastes like crap, but he refuses to cough, this is a cigarette smoking moment. "Okay, you want to know about lube. Um. About if you should use it? Because, ow, yes you should."

"I know, I know." Justin looks at JC getting comfortable with his cigarette and pulls out another for himself. "I mean, the whole brand and type and purchasing thing."

"No. Seriously. This is one of those things that never gets enough time in the big gay sex handbook in the sky. When you think you've used enough, use more. It's," JC makes a face, "something you get used to."

"Um."

"But not bad. It's not. It's just that I kinda sucked at it for a while, or the other guys did. Anyway, you don't want that." JC frowns. "You really?"

"Look, do we need to go there again?"

"I'll try to do my adjusting quietly." Justin glares at him. "I promise. Um." He takes a longer drag and this time he does cough. Justin smiles at him.

"For the brand stuff?"

JC shakes his head. "I'm cheap. I just grab handfuls of whatever the free packets are at the clinic."

"JC!" Justin looks pretty horrified, "I don't want him to think I'm cheap. At least with you it's a life mission or something."

"Well," JC shrugs, "I make Lance steal them for me too sometimes. But he hates it, so that's just when he deserves it." JC throws down at his cigarette, "sorry, I can't finish that."

Justin shrugs, "you never can."

"Okay, I always read the ingredients, because that's important and all the books and lectures tell you to. There's a whole thing with oil based products being bad for condoms."

"That's bad," Justin nods, "yes, but types. A brand of choice?"

"Okay, honestly?"

"Yes," Justin hits him. "God."

"So there's this whole story about Astroglide being invented by some NASA guy to help his wife. And it's probably a huge myth, but I think it's really sweet so I try to buy that most of the time."

"Okay, yeah, that sounds like something you'd do." Justin shuts up for a minute and stares at his cigarette, then looks up. "Okay, I also have some questions about fingers."

JC feels mildly ill. He doesn't think it was the smoking. "Can we hold off on that for a bit. Please? I'm still adjusting. Tell me about the cute nose rubbing stuff first."

"Okay, but, can we go back inside now?" Justin sighs. "I left, like, three cds I wanted in there."

JC picks up Justin's bag and hands it to him. "You left the Bangles in there."

"Well, yeah, I need it for mix tapes. That's important shit."

 

Thirty minutes or so later they're finished with the new cds and the used cds and have moved over to [The Barracks](%20http://www.newbury-st.com/asp/merdtl.asp?id=27%20) so JC can look for pants. Justin's halfway through a rather rambling story involving a banana smoothie, several parties, a few tangential references to letter writing campaigns and general political _sympatico_ , and leftover tofu veggie lasagna for breakfast after one of the several parties. The story culminates in a dramatic one a.m. flat tire rescue for which Cornell left a friend's birthday party, borrowed Howie's van, and journeyed through the pouring rain to pick up a very soggy Justin. Justin was very impressed, JC feels rather impressed, and apparently Cornell seals the deal by refusing to let Justin go home and taking him back to his apartment where, "okay, this is a side note, but he gets really really good pot."

JC rolls his eyes. "Ahh, illegal substances. Wonderful tools for making people talk about all the lovely things they've been happily repressing for years on end."

"Fuck that," Justin shakes his head, "I don't repress. That was the final treat at the end of the evening. I was touching him way earlier in the night than that." Justin licks his lips. "He's got, like, the best stomach ever."

JC tries to visualize Cornell's stomach. He can't really, because Cornell's usually wearing clothes around JC, but he can see the potential underneath the clothing and the kids have been doing nothing but hang out all over each other for several weeks now. JC sighs. "Well, Chris will be thrilled. He was quite sure something was up until we all spent fifteen minutes convincing him you weren't into boys."

"I don't think we should talk about that too much." Justin frowns again. "I'm still feeling a little pissed off there. And, you know," Justin rubs at a spot on his sneakers, "somehow I doubt everyone was helping you with the argument."

So there are things like friendships that have been around for-fucking-ever and Justin's kind of one of those things. They generally imply a certain level of trust and understanding and JC's feeling a bit like a heel. Or a putz face. Or just generally like he deserves to be insulted for a few minutes in Yiddish, only he doesn't know anyone that speaks it. "Come on," JC sighs, "guilt me into buying you sorbet or something. Please?"

Justin raises an eyebrow. "Or you can just talk to me more about sex acts."

"Yeah, but I already did that before, all the time. Now you just want more specifics."

"Yes, the finger thing," Justin nods. JC thinks, with that look on Justin's face, the boy probably has a notebook ready to write things down in.

"Yeah, but," JC smiles, "okay, Nick might be the best person to ask about that part." He coughs. "Or Chris, Lance seemed to really enjoy that."

Justin raises an eyebrow. JC hits him and heads back towards the front of the store. "Okay, if you're too cheap for tofutti, buy me some sorbet or something you putz head."

"Fine," JC rolls his eyes and follows him.

 

[JP Licks](%20http://boston.citysearch.com/profile/4728088%20) is out--all dairy, no substitutes-- and Justin refuses to walk all the way down to Ben and Jerry's. "Besides, how many fucking dollars for one teeny scoop at those places? No way. You're not missing rent because of me thank you." Eventually they're back at CityCo. JC buys himself a creamsicle and Justin decides he wants a strawberry popsicle. They head back over to the stoop, where Chad's still lurking about and attempting to get an insurrection mounted. Justin heads towards the opposite corner and plonks down against the wall. He looks up at JC expectantly and JC winces. "Here?"

Justin nods, pats the cement next to him and starts peeling the plastic off his popsicle. "Come on, be my Obi Wan JC. I'll make you a mix-tape with the Bangles stuff on it for your pains."

"Well, okay, for a mix-tape." JC slips off his bag and slides down the wall. "Why don't you tell me where you're at right now and we'll see what comes up.

He's got orange stuff from the creamsicle on his fingers and he wipes his thumb on his knee. Justin's nodding and starting to talk about his concerns with teeth and injury prevention and then wondering about the finding of the famed prostate and then concerned with general cleanliness and politeness issues and then back to comfort and injury prevention with a brief segue so JC can be assured that the handjob thing "we've got down." All of this may have happened in one long sentence, JC's not sure, because he's feeling a bit like he's being interrogated over weapons of mass destruction. He swallows and nods and takes a deep breath. This could take a minute to get use to.

 

 

 **Chapter 23: _Sound Never Really Forms in a Vacuum_**

JC wakes up the next morning and decides he officially hates November. It's perpetually wet and cold now and whenever he complains, Joey says that it's got very little to do with the weather and lots to do with JC being boney. JC's got a standing offer to come over to Joey's and get fed, but he's also got a freakish metabolism and is pretty sure he's still going to be cold for all eternity.

It's rainy all over the place when he looks out his window and it's ridiculously early, because he set his alarm to get up with Lance and tell him all the news about Justin's new adventures. Lance however, much to JC's surprise, says nothing of great significance when he hears. He just nods, crosses his arms, nods again, and says, "well then." So JC wonders about Lance and body switching for an hour or so, until he starts drinking coffee over JC's shoulder and peering at JLo on the television. This leads into a rant about newsie hats and the dangers of wearing them improperly, so clearly he's still Lance. Maybe the lack of reaction means it had more of an impact, JC's not sure. Lance rubs at his head a lot though and looks dead tired, so JC eventually chalks it up to that or sleep deprivation and sends Lance off to work with his [Fair Trade](%20https://www.transfairusa.org/do/whereToBuy%20) thermos filled to the brim.

After Lance leaves, Britney calls to bitch about the latest Mophead show. Wade ignored her a little too much for her liking and stared at "some chick with ridiculous paisley pants on" way too much for her liking and apparently AJ was there, sans Nick, to notice it all. This leaves her a wee bit concerned about her rep and general scene impact. JC tells her about the Justin news as well, but he thinks she may already have known, because she says "yeah, I kinda told you so" and JC still feels like a putz. He doesn't have to work so he decides to go visit Nick and AJ and make them entertain him. He sets out with _Power, Corruption and Lies_ in the discman and feels newly energized, but by the time he arrives his toes are soaked and he'd trade a lot of sexual favors to borrow a sweatshirt and get some tea.

Nick answers the door in a red towel, clutching a dustpan with green daisies and matching broom in his left hand. There's a moment of silence as JC thinks, "um?" But Nick's grinning, kissing him, and pulling JC into the apartment.

'I'm cleaning. Hi. I also smell, because I'm cleaning, but I'm taking a shower once I'm done in the bathroom and I almost am. Just don't sniff around me much until then."

"Okay?" JC throws his bag down next to a couch. He looks at the towel and Nick's feet. "You're naked."

"Well, yeah. I don't want to get my clothes dirty too." He tilts his head at JC. "You're staring at my toes."

"They're nice looking feet." JC nods and looks up again. "Great toes. Also, Britney scrubs out her bathroom any time someone else showers in it. You two should bond." He kicks off his shoes by the door. "I'm soaked, can I steal a shirt or something?"

"Help yourself to whatever." Nick pulls off his towel and heads back down the hallway. "I just mopped the kitchen though, so be careful on the floor."

JC digs through Nick's drawers until he finds a huge faded red hoodie that says Peal Jam across the front and reminds JC of his youth in a rather fond way. He decides he doesn't need tea enough to risk the kitchen floor and sprawls out on the couch. He pulls the hood up over his ears and watches the Cartoon Network until Nick starts singing in the shower. Then he turns down the volume on Mojo Jojo turning all of Townsville into puppies and listens to Nick's rendition of "Rocky Raccoon" until he sort of falls asleep and sort of zones.

Nick comes in a bit later in a t-shirt and plain old green boxer shorts. He's still got water on his elbows. JC sits up, pulls him over, and sniffs at Nick's hair. His head always smells like grapefruit. "You're all wet."

JC grins and Nick pulls at the hood on the sweatshirt until it falls off JC's ears again. "It's called a shower."

"Yeah, I like it." Nick's hair is sticking up everywhere and JC's got a hand on his back. It's damp and his fingers drag along Nick's skin. They're kissing in a sloppy way and JC's just rubbing at Nick's back, feeling warm, when the door opens and AJ's coming in, looking rather soggy.

He throws a "yo" at them and tosses his bag down next to JC's shoes, then props up his umbrella next to the door. "I take it you're done with the cleaning now?"

"Yeah," Nick nods, "the bathtub sparkles."

AJ nods. "It's only clean unless we can lick it." He plops into a chair across from them and smiles at JC. "You look comfortable. How long have you been here?"

"Not too long. I changed, I got soaked." JC pulls at the sleeves in the sweatshirt. He feels like he could yawn, but he doesn't. Nick's still rubbing his arm. "What are you up to today?"

"Ahh," AJ smiles. "My day is over. Work at seven am and then this one calls to tell me he overslept and he won't be done cleaning until two-something." AJ pushes out his arms. "Far be it from me to disrespect the cleaning process."

Nick shakes his head. "No no, I prefer ritual. Process sounds too much like therapy."

AJ snorts, "and ritual makes it sound like you need it." He holds up his hand and stares at it. "Is my hand shaking? God. How much coffee did I drink today?"

"I haven't had any," JC sighs. "I weep."

Nick peers at him rather skeptically, "Poor thing, how have you continued to live?"

"I don't know." JC shakes his head. "Y'all are supposed to provide these things." Nick rolls his eyes and JC swats at him, then he blinks. "Justin!"

"What?" AJ grabs the remote and flips channels.

"Justin does like boys, for real. Have you guys gotten the news bulletin? He's hooking up with Cornell and he's liked them for ages and I'm a horrible friend, but he yelled at me a bit over it and we're cool on everything."

"So," AJ's watching him hard, "you talked about stuff?"

"Yeah," JC nods. "I think we're all straightened out."

"Well that's over with at least," AJ shuts off the volume. "Because I really could not believe you didn't notice it all earlier. The crushing was pretty damn intense. I even caught him sneaking chais at Starbucks at some point during the second or third year of rejection."

"Wait," Nick looks confused. "On Cornell? How long have they known each other?"

"No no," AJ shakes his head. "The whole JC angle. Justin was quite enamored."

JC holds up his hand. "Okay, feeling confused here. What JC angle?"

"Justin's whole thing he had for you," AJ tilts his head. "When he first came to Boston? Isn't that what we're talking about here?"

JC blinks a lot. "Um, no?" He sits up and looks at AJ. "No, I'm talking about Justin and Cornell and Justin telling me he's got a thing going with Cornell. What are you talking about?"

"Oh." AJ picks at a rip in his jeans. "Fuck."

Nick coughs. JC gets up and turns off the television. There's a rather long pause. Nick coughs again. "I think we're having an awkward moment here."

"Yeah," JC sits back down. His knee keeps twitching back and forth. "I think that's accurate." He stands up again. "Okay, so, Justin, my Justin, had a thing for me?"

"Yeah," AJ nods."

"My Justin?"

"He did for years. You were kind of on another planet at points during this. He really thought you knew for a while, but I kept telling him you didn't."

"You talked about this? Like a lot?"

"Well, yeah, eventually." AJ frowns. "We didn't ever, but then there was this thing and he was all pissed off one night and we did."

Nick moves over on the couch, away from JC. "Should we be talking about this?"

JC shrugs. "It's a little late now, isn't it?"

"Just a wee," AJ snorts. "Look, it's really all over now. You weren't into it and he knows that, he knew that. And this Cornell kid is definitely someone he's keen on. I think it's good for him, probably healthier.

JC stands up. "Okay, if I go and make tea, will you promise to continue this discussion when I get back?"

Nick nods, AJ stands up. "I want something too, let's migrate."

JC digs though the sampler box for Constant Comment while Nick pulls out coffee. None of the tea bags are still in their packets so JC starts smelling the bags to find something caffeinated. AJ keeps talking about Justin at him and JC nods along.

"But," Nick stops him, "so you're saying when he came to school here and everything?"

AJ nods. "Since high school."

JC rubs at his shoulder more and pokes at his tea bag. "How did I miss all of this? I've known him since we were, like, two."

Nick doesn't look at him, just shakes his head a little and pulls out mugs. He hands JC the red one and JC taps at it.

"Should I say something to him? Wait. Don't answer that. I think I need to think about it more." He pours Nick coffee and then grabs the hot water. AJ's shaking his head.

"Look, I'm gonna say something to him. I kind of have to." He grabs another mug, then the coffee, and pours the end of it.

"Yeah," Nick nods, "everyone'll have to have conversations at some point. But then, it'll be covered and you guys don't have to talk about it more if you don't want to. But I think you have to tell him you know, that's a power thing."

JC nods and throws his tea bag in the trash. "I need to talk to Tony."

AJ shrugs, "it wasn't like you were supposed to know before."

JC nods, "yeah, but still."

Nick is heading back towards the living room with his coffee and JC follows. Nick channel surfs for a while, but mainly JC is staring at the moving people and twitching a lot. He forgot to put sugar in the tea and eventually he gives up and dumps out the last half of it, then sits around feeling cold for a while. JC's not sure what Nick is watching anymore. Eventually he stands up and rubs at Nick's hair. "I've got to go walk or something." Nick nods at him and walks JC to the door. JC keeps the sweatshirt though, so he's not completely freezing, mainly just confused.

 

 

 **Chapter 24: _Finding Closure With Your Former Protein Sources_**

JC feels surrounded by idiots. He's been training a new hire at the book store all weekend and he really doesn't understand how one person can get so confused about which printed materials fall under the category of magazine or newspaper. The kid's named Dan. He's been wearing a sweater vest that's destroying the good name argyle _all day long_ and JC's got a headache from suppressing the weeping. The boss was in for a few hours in the morning to check on everything, but she didn't even look sympathetically in JC's direction when the kid asked about the half price stickers for the fifteenth time.

JC gets out at 6:30 and is officially starving for food and sympathy. Britney's organized a [Central Square](%20http://www.surfacecity.net/boston.php?subject=neighborhoods&city=Cambridge&doc_id=201%20) meet up at 7, to give the [Red Line](%20http://www.mbta.com/traveling_t/schedules_subway_redline.asp) peeps some love. He's already going to be late, so he sits on the Red Line, feeling annoyed, contemplating the reality of living in a city and spending half of your life on a subway train, and staring down an old man who looks like JC's father when he squints at him. Which, when coupled with the half you life on the T theory, just means the man's the future JC to come, which is very depressing, considering that he's wearing a horrible comb-over. The guy squirms a little, after the staring goes on for a while, but it doesn't make JC feel better.

He arrives at Central Square and a large man in a green coat immediately takes a liking to him and starts asking for cigarettes. About a block and a half later, JC thinks the guy's convinced that he doesn't smoke, but then the man just starts asking for quarters so he can buy french fries. JC stops and looks at the Wendy's, "Why don't I just buy you something?" One baked potato with sour cream and chives later he's headed back towards the [Middle East](http://www.mideastclub.com/).

Britney's outside smoking. She wiggles her fingers at JC and pulls him over for a hug after she exhales out a lovely line of smoke. "Heyyy." She touches his sleeve, he's got a new hoodie with green patches on the elbows. "This is lovely."

"Thank you," JC smiles and touches his shoulder. He's rather happy with the thumbholes himself, they were added post-purchase.

"Chris, Lance and Nick are inside. They're all talking about the writing process and Lance is actively engaged in the conversation. It's a bit alarming."

"Yeah," JC smiles. "Sex with the same person on a regular basis seems to agree with him somewhat."

Britney drops her cigarette and steps on it. "Well, good for him. All that growth and change in such a short time? No wonder he looks exhausted."

JC raises an eyebrow and holds open the door for her. "My theory is too little sleep, too much sex, but you keep thinking that."

Nick rubs at JC's shoulder when he sits down in the chair next to him and Lance nods from his end of the table, but then continues. "The thing is, yes it's secular, there is that whole argument, but it's also not always secular and it's still everywhere. How do you leave room for everyone in all that?"

Chris shakes his head at Lance. "You could just say that life's not fair already. I mean, yeah it sucks, but if the majority wants to celebrate a secular holiday where a fat guy brings you the latest state-of-the-art electronics, don't they just kind of win?"

Nick frowns. "Well that probably pisses of the churches a little, but it still gets to be sort of their party, doesn't it?"

"Um." Britney raises her hand, "how the hell did we get from the writing process to religious discrimination?"

"I assigned a new topic?" Lance shrugs. "The other one got boring."

JC's checking the menu and trying to make up his mind, because it's hard and there are a million things he hasn't tried yet. He looks over at Nick, "we keep saying we'll do brunch here, but Chris is the only one close enough to make it here for that."

Chris raises an eyebrow at him and looks at Lance, who coughs and then looks over at Britney. "What are you having?"

She shuts her menu. "Tofu burger. Justin never shuts up about them so I might as well try one."

"Oooo. Speaking of Justin," Chris looks over at JC, "Told you so."

"Chris." Lance glares at him.

"What? It's not a sensitive subject is it?"

"Well." JC looks down at his silverware. He's got two spoons, which is a little odd, particularly since the spoon is the most under-appreciated of the utensils. But then the lady comes up to take their orders so JC shuts up for a minute until she leaves, brings back the basket of pita bread, and leaves again. "It's just a lot of news quickly."

Nick leans over and kind of mumbles, "did you talk to him?" at JC and JC nods back. Because they did talk, sort of, but mainly it was just awkward until Justin changed the subject.

Then the table's kind of ridiculously quiet for a bit, and Chris is still looking like he's expecting more information, until Lance says "oh good god, like we all aren't going to know in a week's time any way," and puts his hand near Chris's on the table. "Justin has apparently-- I say apparently, because he has not yet chosen to discuss the situation with me personally-- been quite in love with Mr. Chasez here for a number of years. That's more the news flash than the boy-fucking part, because, really, have you seen Cornell's stomach? Who wouldn't want to spend some time there?"

Chris moves his hand a little further away on the table and raises an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, don't tell me you weren't looking when he took off his sweatshirt that night, because the whole world paused to watch that." Lance winks at JC. "Even Nick was watching."

"Hey!" Nick frowns at him.

"Well, you are rather focused in your attentions," Lance shrugs, "it's nice. I approve of the match and all that." Anyway," Lance nods, "yes. Hearts were broken at a young age, but healing, learning to mend."

Chris frowns at him. "That's a song. In fact, I'm thinking that's a Celine Dion song. That's totally not allowed."

Britney peels a piece of bread into sections and JC thinks she looks like she'd be happier holding a cigarette. "I think our boy is fine, really."

Nick grabs more pita bread from the bag. "Which boy?"

"All of them, Justin, JC, you. This doesn't need to be drama."

JC frowns. "It's not drama. Where is the drama? I'm fine and good," he looks at Nick, "really. Can't we argue about Christmas again or something?"

A guy brings their food over and JC pokes at his stuffed grape leaves. He feels less hungry than he'd like to be, considering he hasn't eaten most of the day and he really fucking loves the Middle East's stuffed grape leaves. Nick's got something square-ish, with sauce and rice pilaf, and he's carefully piling the pilaf on top of the patty thing and taking bites only when the fork only has a little bit of everything on it.

JC decides to try cutting up two of his stuffed grape leaves and mixing them together. It looks like this thing his mom does in the summer with rice, salmon and nori paper, so that's kind of nostalgic and fun, in a dead animal kind of way. He looks up. "You know, I don't miss meat much, ever, but I really wish the taste of salmon could be replicated somehow." He frowns. "Sometimes. But Justin would say something here about how that was recreating the taste of meat and then you aren't leaving it behind and all that."

Chris looks over at Lance and Lance looks back over at Chris and reaches with his fork to steal some of his food. He chews for a minute, and then swallows, "mmm, lamb." They look vaguely guilty when JC blinks at them and Britney sighs and tries very hard not to appear overly amused at JC's pain. Lance swallows again. "Okay, sorry, that was too hard to resist."

JC rolls his eyes and eats his lovely, non-nervous-system containing stuffed grape leaves and thinks 'moral high ground, moral high ground' to himself. He's got rice and a little oil on his hands. He starts to lick one of his fingers, but Nick is watching like maybe it looks funny at the table, so he stops and uses a napkin instead, then drinks more of his water.

Chris is staring at him. "So, what's the beef with Justin. Do I have to pick sides and watch the family split in two or something?"

JC winces. "There's no beef. I just, okay, I really didn't think he liked boys and then. I don't know, maybe if I'd talked to him more it wouldn't have been a thing. And AJ says he liked me. How many people picked up on that?"

Britney looks a little sheepish, but also a little annoyed. "That's not just something you tell people honey. I don't care how close we are."

"I guess it's just, I'm his best friend. I feel like I should have known." JC looks down at his food.

Chris taps at the table a bit. "Look, I'm just going to say this, because I think you know I say it with love, but. Didn't you kind of know? I mean, at least about the bi stuff. The crushing, whatever, that's different. But you kinda just decided you didn't agree with the other stuff and ignored it." Chris shrugs. "Whatever. Maybe it's not the thing to talk about yet. Digest and marinate and all that. Then you can be analytical after you've processed."

They do the long silence thing for a bit, but then a new group is coming in through the door. They're loud and rather jolly, less intimidating than the neo-pagan club sitting across the way that insisted on dousing over their whole booth and all the silverware before sitting. The new group looks younger, with distinctly student-like markings. Then one of the boys is looking over at Nick, and Nick is half getting up to say hello, so clearly these aren't scary first year children, but friends and acquaintances.

The boy's friendly looking enough. JC hasn't got a clue who he is, but he sure looks like he knows Nick. Mainly he smiles at Nick a lot and just as Nick is saying "John's in my writing group" to the crew, John is looking over at Chris, nodding, and saying "oh, hey Professor."

JC can see a hint of a grimace when the "P" word gets said, but then Chris is smiling and saying "hi John, what're you guys up to tonight?" and John's reassuring him that his paper's been done since Monday, so there's no avoidance going on.

Chris sounds oddly adult like all of a sudden when he speaks. Lance's mouth is kinda in the "oh." position and his eyebrow is kinda in the "the hell?" position and he looks primed to ask but then a girl with several toe rings and finger rings and eyebrow rings joins them to say hello and grins at the sight of Chris as well. "Kirkpatrick! Am I going to get to graduate this semester or not?" Chris shoots back with a comment about how some students should learn not to challenge their professor's opinions all the time and then they might get to graduate, but she seems to find this amusing.

At this point JC's happily pingponging back and forth between Nick's conversations, Chris's banter, and Lance's "oh reeeeally?" expression. Clearly some people have been communicating as poorly as he and Justin have. Or, okay, maybe not quite the same, but he's going to pretend that for at least a little while.

Nick's grinning at John's comments about a poem or something that Nick wrote, which is apparently the best thing John's read ever ever. JC hasn't seen it and he sticks on that for a minute, because Nick did say he'd tell him if he did anything new. JC feels just a hint of general concern in the air at that, or maybe doubt. Because they really haven't talked about much of anything lately, just had a lot of good sex. And that's okay, maybe. Maybe it's not.

John's clearly trying to flirt, but Nick gets this little, slightly amused look to his face and suddenly JC's got a hand on his knee. Just for a second, just a squeeze. So maybe there's a whole lot of emotional hoopla going on over nothing there. His knee tingles for a few minutes, where Nick's thumb was. Nick has wonderful thumbs.

Eventually the kids move along to a set of tables closer to the bar. JC returns to the grape leaves, Nick's finishing off a Coke, and Britney seems relatively content with the tofu burger, but does admit she prefers the regular burger product to the tofu. Chris is leaning back and being excessively casual with his, "yeah, I never really talked about that stuff with you, did I?" comment to Lance and Lance is leaning back, peering at Chris and attempting to match casual with unconcerned and unruffled. JC suspects this has something to do with power levels again.

"Mmm, nope. Never did. Must have been too busy or something." Lance leans back, just a wee. "Forgot in your old age perhaps."

"Yeah," Chris gets preoccupied with his meal again.

JC looks at Nick, smiles at him, and steals some of his Coke. "Justin and I, we're going to be cool, right? It'll just be weird for a little while."

Nick looks confused, blinks at JC a moment, then nods. "It's just personal, it's awkward for him."

JC nods back at him and eats his last stuffed grape leaf. He looks back down the table at Britney. She's talking to Lance about something and rolling her eyes. Chris turns and winks at JC, holding up the check. Chris winks with great skill.

"You two about done?"

"Yeah," Nick nods, "I'm stuffed."

Britney shakes her head. "Should have saved room. They're selling these crazy sundaes at Baskin Robbin's with green toppings. It's, like, green fudge or something."

Lance looks appropriately horrified. "That can't be good for small children."

"I know! Think of the chemicals!" Britney grins, "that's the best part."

The obligatory ten-minute confusion over paying the check occurs, then JC carefully packs up the leftover pita bread into his bag and away they go. Lance nudges Chris, "don't forget to say goodbye to the students, Professor" but Chris grins at him. "Mmm, that word sounds so much more fun when you say it. I'm picturing you in a prep-school uniform now."

Lance shrugs. "I'm mildly amused by it."

Britney raises an eyebrow at JC and Nick. Nick laughs and lets her pull him outside. JC tries to ignore it, but he's starting to feel irritated by the world again. He watches Britney and Nick talking in front of the window. Nick looks worried about something and Britney's talking to him around a cigarette. She sees JC looking at them and peers at him for a second, then turns back to Nick and starts laughing about something. JC heads outside and checks his watch. It's 9pm and he's already wanting to sleep. He does not want to go to work again in the morning and deal with more questions about why the phone needs to be answered by whoever is closest to it and how many bathroom breaks are acceptable during one hour. He looks at Nick and Nick smiles at him, but he doesn't step any closer.

 

 

 **Chapter 25: _The Community Walk of Shame_**

It's about eight thirty, maybe quarter of nine in the morning and it's a Saturday. JC isn't quite sure why he's awake or out of bed, but he woke up with his hand on Nick's spine, his face half pushed into the mattress and half breathing into Nick's neck. He felt hot, sticky where their skin touched, and he had his own pillow, but he's had it since the first night they began this great whatever and he's not sure what the hell else they're doing there.

So now he's walking home, his stomach's growling like he hasn't eaten in a decade, and it's much more sunny and cheerful out than he wants to acknowledge, considering the general mood.

JC may officially decide to give up civilization and become a hermit. Or build a biosphere-thing for himself and a few key individuals. Then they'll all be happy and fed when the bomb hits or global warming fries the planet or the cows and chickens just up and revolt. Mainly, it'll be warmer there. He doesn't think the month will ever end and he's working far more hours than he ever signed on for at the bookstore since, surprise surprise, the new hire has high-tailed it out of there and into the glitzy and soul-sucking world of shopping mall retail. JC takes great satisfaction in knowing that half the kid's paychecks will be spent on the dress requirements.

He wants to talk to Justin. He's talked to Justin exactly twice in the past week. The first time he meant to say: hi, sorry I've known you all my life and I thought I knew you better than anyone, but I managed to miss two of the biggest things happening to you or, like, decided one of them wasn't happening. But mainly, instead, he just said "hi", Justin sounded embarrassed, and things were pretty much awkward until Justin said, "look, whatever. It's done and over, okay? It's not like you killed kittens, okay?" and JC made appropriate noises back. The second time he called because the episode of the _Twighlight Zone_ with the monster appearing on the wing of the plane was on and JC always calls Justin when that episode's on, because it gave Justin nightmares when they were younger. But that time everything was fine, sort of, and that kinda felt weird as well, because it was tradition, but then Justin hasn't been scared of it for several ages and maybe this is another thing JC is doing that he shouldn't do."

JC's waiting at the crosswalk for the red hand to change over. He's got a mix in his discman that Lance made the last summer during a particularly bitter and depressed phase, so there's lots of slow, post- _OK Computer_ Radiohead and some Cat Power and it's probably not the best thing for JC to be listening to this early in the morning. His mother would say this was the type of morning that needed orange juice, but JC never really remembers to buy it and he's not quite sure what the OJ is supposed to do exactly.

He decides that wanting to talk to Justin and not going is kind of ridiculous, considering how many times they've puked in each other's bathrooms at four a.m., so instead of crossing the street and going home he heads for the T. He's walking through the drop-off area leading into the station when lo and behold, who should be walking towards him but the very same Justin, Cornell at his side. Justin's got his bag slug up on his back and is carrying his camera bag over his shoulder. Cornell's holding a copy of _[The Weekly Dig](http://www.weeklydig.com/dig/)_ and walking along, reading something out loud. He spots JC first and grins, nudging Justin, "hey, your boy is here."

Justin looks over and smiles when he sees JC. "What're you doing here?"

"Um." JC rubs at his arm. "I was going to visit you? Only, you're here."

"Yeah?" Justin shoots him a look and for a minute looks just like JC's mother, which is rather unpleasant.

"Yeah." JC shrugs. "What're you two up to?"

Justin pats his bag. "Photos. The stuff I've got for my independent project right now sucks."

"Yeah, whatever," Cornell rolls his eyes. "Have you finished developing the stuff you took with the kids? Because that first batch was just fine and you need to accept that already."

Justin kind of shrugs and frowns. "Well, I fucked up the light settings on that roll."

Cornell doesn't say anything back, just turns to JC with a bit of an 'only you can understand what I'm going through' expression. "Have you seen any of these yet?"

JC looks at Justin. "I don't think. Justin never really."

"No," Justin shakes his head and looks a bit embarrassed. "I never got around to showing you those."

"Well," Cornell nods, "make him show you sometime. Because there are all these kids doing a mural and it's damn cute."

Justin rolls his eyes, "when I'm done or something," he pauses. "Seriously, only you get to see the crappy stuff."

Cornell looks torn between being pleased and being a bit disapproving at the word "crappy". JC coughs, there's a difference between visiting the couple and visiting with the Justin. He checks his watch, nine-oh-three exactly.

"So what's up?" Justin nods at JC's watch. He looks curious, maybe a little worried. "Why are you up so early? Why were you coming to visit?"

"I don't know," JC shrugs, it doesn't feel like that big of a deal anymore. Or, okay, and maybe he feels weird talking in front of Cornell. "I didn't sleep well, I guess. Whatever, I'm in a stupid mood."

Justin looks at him a little harder, mostly skeptically.

JC shrugs, "I'm cool, really. I just need more sleep."

Justin nods and looks like he'll accept the answer, temporarily. "You want to walk with us or something? I can be distracting at least."

"Um." JC looks at Justin. He's bouncing up on the balls of his feet, just a little, and he shoots a quick look at Cornell. "No. You two go and do your thing. I think I should just go home and crash for a while."

"Yeah, you sure?" Justin rubs at his shoulder, then drops his hand. "Wait. You were at Nick's last night?"

JC starts to shrug again. "Yeah--"

"Okay, are you stalking me? Lying in wait to attack me?" It's Joey. He looks about as sleepy and grumpy as JC feels. "What's everyone doing over here?"

Justin smiles at him, "what the hell are you doing here?"

Joey's got a travel mug in his hands that says 'Keep Your Religion Off My Body' and he takes off the lid and passes it over to JC, frowning.

"It's tea. It's Lady Hannah tea." He nods at JC. "Ask me who didn't leave his meeting last night."

JC sniffs at the tea for a minute and looks confused, but then his head shoots up. "Oh!" He hits Justin in the side. "You had that meeting thing at Kelly's last night."

"Heeey!" Justin grins. "That's--"

"No." Joey holds up a hand. "It sucks. It's bad bad bad. She totally put me out in the morning." He sighs. "Woke me up and put me out with tea."

"Wait," Justin frowns. "But there was sex, right?"

Joey sighs at him in a rather dramatic fashion. "I've been working on this for a year, years practically. All that planning was not, not, intended for a random hookup."

"Well," JC tries to look sympathetically at him. "Maybe it isn't over? Maybe this was a trial run?"

Joey takes a swig of the tea and grimaces. He steps over to the curb and dumps it out into the street. "I'm not drinking any more of this crap. Who's up for coffee?"

JC shakes his head. "They've got a photo thing."

"The hell?" Joey rolls his eyes. "Only you would be up this early willingly."

Justin's mouth does something that wants to be a pout. "Hey." He crosses his arms. "I haven't graduated yet okay? It's for school."

"Oh, whatever," Joey grins. "You're the next Ansel Adams, okay. You worry too much."

Justin looks a little annoyed, but Cornell elbows him, "or Gordon Parks." Justin seems to like that better. Cornell looks at his watch, "it's getting late," and then Justin just looks a little worried.

"We've got to go." Justin looks at JC sternly. "You'll go with Joey right?"

"Fine. Yeah." JC sighs. The world might be a little less annoying after coffee.

"Good." Justin nods and smiles over at Cornell. They shift a bit in place, but Justin's still watching JC like he's not sure he should leave.

JC shakes his head at him. "I'll be fine. Will you go before you miss your magic moment and fail your project or something?"

"Fine," Justin rolls his eyes and turns to Joey. "He's all in a funk and acting like he isn't. Get him talking okay?"

Joey nods, Justin nods, JC rolls his eyes. "I'm fine!" Cornell half waves at JC as they turn away. He says something to Justin under his breath and Justin leans against him and cackles a bit. JC thinks they look cute.

"So," Joey looks at JC carefully as they're walking away. JC glares at him. "Hey, okay, not until coffee then. Um." He grins. "You think they're doing it yet?"

"Joey!" JC frowns. "He was just asking about blowjobs, like, a week ago. Give them some time." Joey looks at him skeptically and JC rolls his eyes. "At least another week or two, right?"

"Two guys? Their college years?" Joey shakes his head. "I bet they've done it already. They were coming from Cornell's place, right?"

"It's Justin. He's, like, new at this stuff."

"Oh, please." Joey looks at him like he's got three heads. "You think that's going to stop Justin?"

"You really think?" JC looks back where Justin left them. "They did look pretty relaxed. I just wouldn't think Justin, would, you know. So quickly. It might be a little scary."

"Yeah, like how he wasn't into Cornell either?" Joey rolls his eyes. "I can't believe you haven't asked more JC. We need the intel, you're the primary contact here."

"Hey, I'm fucking adjusting okay?" JC's stomach is growling. He tugs at his shirt.

Joey frowns. "Yeah, adjust fast already. Lance can't get this info, this is your territory."

"Whatever okay. I do what I can." He sighs. "I'm hungry."

They head to a Dunkin's, because JC's suddenly craving a jelly cruller. Joey has about eighty-eight cents on him so he buys JC the cruller and JC buys them coffee and then an egg and cheese on an English muffin for Joey. Not a bagel, because he's worried about his carb intake.

They sit at one of the three little tables stuck in the corner, the one that's furthest away from the door and that totters the least when they lean on it and JC starts to pull off pieces of his cruller. The last time he ate one, Nick ate the other half and the powdered sugar was everywhere by the time they were finished. There was licking, JC liked that part in particular. He shakes his head out. Joey's attempting to catch him up on all the previous evening's events.

"The thing is, last night was it. We were all meeting at her place and she asked me to stay. She asked me. Then there were some beers, I told the story about that dozen-asparagus-and-a-vegan-donut lady at the Co-op--"

"That's a good story," JC nods, "you tell it well."

"Yeah, it has a proven track record." Joey pulls off the top of his egg and cheese, bends it in half and eats it first. "Then we're on the couch, she's got a hand on my shoulder, and it's started."

"Finally" JC rolls his eyes.

"I know," Joey leans back and waves his arm out as he talks. "It was great, everything was great. I was great. I was super attentive, there was significant time spent on foreplay-- please be sure to emphasize that part, when this story gets to Lance."

"Of course."

"And then, after the obligatory check in and general prep moment, there was a good, healthy, long, but not too long, period of sex." An old man almost sits near them, but then heads towards the door. Joey drinks more of his coffee. "Everyone had orgasms, everyone went to sleep happy. Then the next thing I know it's light out and she's handing me my jeans and this stupid thermos of tea, telling me how I can just return it at the next group meeting." He leans back and crosses his arms. "My jeans and a thermos of tea?"

Joey takes another bite of the sandwich and JC frowns sympathetically at him. "You're a country western song." JC takes a swig of his coffee. "Look, maybe it was a hookup thing. Maybe you were used. But, whatever. It just gives you more to chase after, right?"

"Well, yeah, okay, I admit that I enjoy that part."

"Just a wee."

"Just a wee. But I'm kinda tired. Like, the entire point of this whole wooing process involved something. I don't know. Maybe a little more long term and relationship like." Joey takes another bite of his sandwich. "I like her. She's cool. Old age is setting in and I want to try just being chill for a bit and see what that's like."

JC starts to laugh, but then he stops. Joey waves his hand towards the door.

"Whatever, it'll work itself out or it won't. Right now I'm just going to be pissy about it for a bit and enjoy being all despondent." Joey leans in on the table. "What's up with you? Justin's, like, handing over custody this morning and Britney actually pulled a mother hen moment the other night on the phone with me."

JC shrugs. "Honestly? I don't know. I feel kind of like an ass. Justin's, like, my best friend."

"Well, yeah, okay, you screwed up," Joey nods. "But he knows you love him and all that. Well, you know, at appropriate levels. And he's so over that side of things."

"But that's," JC makes a face. "Look, I know people, okay. I read people well, that's my thing. Or one of them, whatever. And I learn about this from AJ. By accident. And then there's this Nick thing."

"Well, wait." Joey looks confused. "What Nick thing?"

"I don't know." JC shrugs. "He's like, on his own for the first time ever here. I was all, 'come to Boston!' at him and he was in school, he was going to go to grad school."

"Okay, honestly? So what."

"Well, he just picked up and came here in about a minute and a half. It's not like anything has ever been formally declared between the two of us, or we've ever even had a formal dating process occur. And I'm way too attracted to his neck for it to be healthy. Like, okay, I really like the boy, right. But how the hell do I know if he's in a place for that? Also," JC spins his cup around in his hands, "I don't know, but doesn't this scenario just sound a little, slightly vaguely familiar to you?"

"Oh you are not." Joey throws up his hands. "JC this is not some epic repetition thing. That was, like, three million years ago and you and Nick are completely different people. They're different choices."

"Well, are they? I mean, I met Kevin when I was living at home. We start hooking up, he decides to go to Boston?"

"Okay, stop." Joey shakes his head. "Honestly? He decided to go and you followed him. You chose to do that. And, yeah, you thought you liked him more than you did and that it was a thing. But he liked you well enough too. And then, then, you tried it and it didn't work. So what?" Joey shrugs. "Isn't that a good thing that happened? It's all about trying stuff and seeing if you like the results, that's all. Kelly tried me out last night and now we'll see, right?"

"There's a quote that works here," JC frowns. "Something about 'there is no try'"

"Yeah, whatever. I think it's from Yoda. No way am I listening to a green fictional character right now as your counter argument."

"I really thought I liked Kevin, but we just jumped from this amazing sex, hanging out and visiting thing into this living together in Boston thing. There was this night when I had to go back and give him my keys and he made pasta for us and we talked and it was suddenly really cool and easy again, but we were just eating this pasta he made and talking. I was thinking about all of it last night at Nick's. I got there and I suddenly had no idea what he was even thinking. And I asked about work, or something stupid, and he kind of jumped. I don't know if I ask him enough stuff." JC frowns. "Okay. Don't laugh at me here. I think maybe I should date him. Like, see what that does. Isn't that testing things?"

"JC, we don't Date." Joey shudders. "That's so so wrong."

JC plays with his coffee lid some more. "Lance and Chris are, sort of."

"Sort of. Heavy on the sort of. Like, okay," Joey sighs, "Lance and Chris are to dating as Andy Warhol's soup cans are to soup cans."

"It's a system, JC shrugs, "apparently it's got a getting-to-know-you structure. I can see some of the appeal."

"Okay, yeah, on what level?" Joey puts down his coffee cup. "You've given speeches on this hon, I shouldn't have to. Long, well reasoned speeches about dating as an artificial construct. And it leading to artificial interactions and exchanges. And not wanting to participate in that system."

"Umm." JC pokes at his last piece of cruller. "Maybe I was a little wrong? Maybe with the right people they don't have to be that artificial and have all the silly rules."

"Mmm. That sounds like hanging out and bonding and doing what you've been doing." Joey shakes his head and eats more of his sandwich thing. "look, can I just point out that it's barely after nine am on a Saturday morning and we're sitting, drinking coffee in a Dunkin Donuts, giving our money to a horrid union busting corporation and being served coffee by totally overworked underpaid employees. We might be a little depressed and prone to making rash statements?"

"Yeah, okay. Maybe it's the lighting."

"Or the warm glow from the 'feature flavor' sign."

JC rubs his neck. "He's the same age as Justin really. I don't want him to think he's some kind of replacement or something."

"Well," Joey frowns, "he's not, is he?"

"No," JC shakes his head, "no. But he said. Last night I asked him something about Justin and he got this look and I don't know. I don't know what he was thinking."

"Well, you know," Joey tilts his head at JC. "Maybe you just had an awkward night. It happens."

"Yeah, it does."

"I don't know." Joey shakes his head. "Are you still staying for Thanksgiving and all that? That's a relationship timeline point, right? It's a test of sorts."

"I don't know. I guess it could be? We haven't talked about it much since it came up." JC rubs at his neck again. "I don't know, whatever, I'm so tired. I have to be back at the store by eleven and I may scream if I have to deal with another book order. I almost used to like this job. Almost."

Joey frowns. "They can't schedule you this much."

"Yeah, but ultimately, I said they could," JC shrugs, "I'm the idiot. I wanted to because the money's all good to have for Christmas and shit."

"Come on." Joey hops up. "I'm totally in clothes of shame here and I smell. You probably do too. Come back with me and at least shower before you go to work. I'll pack you a lunch or something."

"Okay." JC nods and hops up too. Joey probably even has orange juice in his fridge. He's that kind of kid. And, really, he probably needs the distraction.

 

 

 **Chapter 26: _Not An Indie Ending_**

JC meets Nick at the [movie theatre](%20http://www.boston.com/movies/display?display=theater&id=17%20) after work. Nick's still in his work clothes and he doesn't look all that thrilled to be there, but when JC asks, Nick just shakes his head at him. "Work stuff, I'm adjusting, whatever." Nick covers the tickets, JC gets them coffee. There's a joke about napkins, or Nick just remembers that JC like to have extras and JC thinks it's amusing and they head into the theatre just in time for the previews.

The movie has an unbelievably typical twitchy, semi-happy, mostly unresolved but with new-found independence of spirit, indie ending. Mainly it's disappointing, which is surprising because AJ suggested it and JC usually likes everything AJ does. JC buys one of the clove cookies as they're leaving and offers Nick half, but he shakes his head and says he's not hungry. They start the walk back to the T stop and JC isn't sure what on earth to say. He hates Kendall at night, passionately. It's too dark and too quiet and everything feels abandoned in a post-apocalypse world kind of way.

JC talks about the bookstore and how it's sucking his soul, but he doesn't think that it's the most interesting topic he could have picked so he stops after a while and hopes Nick says something, anything. Nick doesn't. Instead he yawns once or twice and maybe says something about being tired, but it's so quiet JC doesn't think it counts.

JC stops. "Hey."

"Yeah?" Nick looks up at him and there's a delay as he blinks. He looks slightly deer caught in headlights, which could have something to do with the car moving past them, or not.

JC frowns. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Nick shrugs. "I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm not being very entertaining."

JC shakes his head. "Um, whatever, okay? Are you okay? Is something up?"

"No, whatever, it's cool." Nick starts walking again. "Work was weird and I'm just ready to go home and sleep already."

"Okay, but what happened?"

"I got in trouble. John stopped by for, like, ten seconds and apparently it bothered some people." Nick shakes his head. "Seriously, whatever. It's still sort of a new job and I've just got to figure out the system more. I'm just gonna hate them all for a bit tonight, okay?"

"Yeah," JC nods and thinks about the other kid. "John seemed cool."

"Yeah, he is," Nick nods. "I think Chris pushed him off on me. He's very into making his friends bond and make friends and all that." Nick rolls his eyes.

There's another pause, probably not as weird as the last one, but JC still feels odd and he decides to change the subject. Instead he talks about how they're near the Garment District and Nick really might like their pants, like, a lot and how JC has visions of getting a full suit from there one day, maybe pinstriped. Then he squints at Nick and imagines him in one, he enjoys that picture. He wants to take him to family weddings in it.

JC figures now or never on the Thanksgiving front and attempts a segue. "So," he pulls at the strap for his bag and adjusts it higher on his back, "Justin's doing his thing where he's dying to go home, can't wait to go home for the holiday, planning to go home, but freaking out about leaving school behind and his grades and talking about how he maybe, really this year, might just stay in Boston for Thanksgiving."

"Yeah?" Nick half nods and looks at JC like 'why the hell are you bringing this up?' is what he'd rather be saying.

JC swallows. "You have to understand, he does this every year." JC rolls his eyes. "Every year." He frowns, the bag's up too high now and the strap is hitting his lungs funny. "Then he goes home, of course, is happy as can be, Thanksgiving's held and my dad makes bad jokes about Justin's vegan meal requirements, Justin wrinkles his nose at dad's bird and complains that there's no vegan pie, dad bitches about the existence of vegan pies--"

"Your dad does?"

"Yeah." JC nods, looks at Nick, and loosens the strap again. "Oh, yeah, we all have Thanksgiving together now. Mom decided to invite them one year and it never really stopped." He grins. "Poor Justin will be the lone veggie this year."

Nick nods again. They hit a crosswalk just as it starts to beep at them repeatedly to walk and JC watches Nick glare at it. "I hate that noise. When did they start doing that? They don't do anything back home."

"It's probably illegal not to," JC shrugs. "For blind people and stuff."

"Yeah, I know." Nick doesn't say anything for a minute or so and JC stares into the bushes to his right. They're rustling a bit and it makes him nervous. Nick coughs. "My brother sent me a letter? It made me think of Justin. He's considering giving up meat, I guess."

"Yeah?" JC smiles. "Well, I can support that."

"I figured as much." Nick nods.

"He wrote a letter? That's cute."

"Yeah," Nick shrugs, he does it a bit. I think he likes them better."

There's another brief pause. This time JC attempts to ignore the buses and then to get back on target. "Hey, what does your family do for Thanksgiving?"

Nick frowns and looks off across the street. "Honestly? There's usually a fight of some sort, I usually don't entertain the relatives enough, and the turkey is irritatingly moist and juicy, because mom always, always, lets it rest before carving it or whatever." He frowns again. "And Aaron usually has to perform tricks. Or he just does willingly, he tends to be better at getting the holiday checks from the relatives than I am." Nick shakes his head. "Can we change the subject? I'm sorry, I'm just really not in the mood to think about home today."

"Are youÜ"

"Okay, wait." Nick stops. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm totally irrationally bitchy today, I woke up like this, I swear." Nick stops and takes a deep breath, then exhales. "I'm sorry."

They're [in front of](%20http://www.landmarktheatres.com/Market/Boston/KendallMap.htm%20) the Marriott now and almost at the T. JC puts his hand on Nick's shoulder and Nick leans on it for a second, but watches the door. The bellhop is running around helping a family out of a cab and there's a luggage cart in front of them looking very fake-brass. Nick pushes off and heads through the revolving doors. They take the shortcut through the hotel lobby and pop back outside, heading towards the T again. JC isn't quite sure what to say so he stares at Nick a lot and feels off in general. Nick has an expression on his face that JC isn't understanding.

They get on the T and head back into Boston. Neither of them are talking and Nick looks a little guiltily in JC's direction. Eventually he asks about home again and JC's Thanksgiving, which mainly makes JC feel guilty back, for bringing up awkward things.

"I guess I just really like pie," JC shrugs. "And it's kind of the best pie opportunity of the year. Dad makes a killer pie crust." JC smiles. "And then, of course there's the running drama where Justin will never eat dad's pie and Dad takes it rather personally. He's got a whole speech about how it's a special occasion and can't there be exceptions to the vegan thing? And then Justin's got a speech about how, no, there can't be, but he did have it when he was younger and he's glad his last non-vegan pie experiences involved dad's piecrust, because they aren't bad tasting memories. It's cute, it's their shtick."

Nick smiles. "What does the Justin eat?"

"Ah. Typically he brings little plastic packs of [vegan butterscotch pudding](http://www.imaginefoods.com/pages/products/pudding.html). Sometimes he freezes them." JC sighs. "They're okay tasting. Sort of."

They just sit for a while and listen to the T stops. JC stares out the window at an ad for some life changing energy massage thing. He's tired, but he doesn't have to work in the morning which is a rare and very very happy thing. He's thinking he could hang out with Nick for a while and maybe even stay awake though a decent movie rental. Or talking, he's thinking maybe they need more talking. They transfer over to the Orange Line, pausing to give directions to a tourist couple which, JC realizes about five seconds after they're gone, are only sort of correct directions since he forgot to mention that they needed to go down two blocks before turning right. JC worries about this a bit as they head back out of the city, but there's not much he can do about it. He doesn't say anything to Nick about it though; he kind of feels like a dork.

"Hey," JC pokes Nick. "You know, you could totally come to our Thanksgiving, if you wanted. Do you want to go home?"

"No." Nick looks back from the window quickly and shakes his head. "No, I'm going to stay, seriously. Really. I think the idea of being on my own here for it is important, really. It fits with the current life mission and all that."

JC nods, "are you sure?"

"Yeah," Nick nods back. "I haven't really done stuff like this and felt okay with it before. It's cool. Embracing solitude and rejecting stress, yadda yadda."

"Um, so," JC's got his bag in his lap. He looks down at it and spins one of the buttons around. "Do you still want me to stay with you?"

"Well," Nick inhales and then exhales again slowly. He squints a little and it pulls his eyebrows close together. "Don't stay if you want to go home or anything, seriously. I'll be cool on my own."

"Well." JC rubs at his arm. He still can't tell what Nick wants him to do. "I guess it kind of feels weird. Justin's going home and I'm sure he's going to talk nonstop about Cornell and I know they're all cool with that stuff, but maybe they won't be? Or maybe he'll feel weird. I mean, it's his first boy."

"Yeah," Nick nods and looks back out the window. "And I guess things are kind of different now. Between you two."

"I hope not." JC frowns. "I mean, I'm working on that, I really am. I was kind of an ass."

There's a beep from the train. Nick hops up suddenly and JC feels startled. He looks around and realizes they're at Nick's stop. JC starts to get up too, but Nick shakes his head. "I've got to be up at, like six-thirty tomorrow." He looks at the doors. "I think you should go home."

"But, what about," JC starts to pick up his bag and push out of the seat after him. "We should talk about this."

"No." Nick shakes his head. "It sounds like Justin might need you. And I'll be fine, really." The doors on the car open up, there's another beep, and Nick heads over. "AJ's here too, I promise. Just go home, okay?"

He's staring at JC, but his face is very very blank. JC nods at Nick and he turns and heads out through the doors. When he starts down the platform JC waits for him to wave or look, but he doesn't. From the side, and through the blur of the train pulling out, JC thinks Nick looks frustrated or maybe worried. He's not sure. Because everything seems blurred. And it all feels frustratingly worryingly familiar, because JC is feeling pained all of a sudden. Like he's back in Kevin's kitchen, watching Kevin make him farewell spaghetti, and JC never knew Kevin hated garlic until the point where they were finished.


	7. Part Seven (27-29)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks and a lifetime's supply of no foam, no whip., venti gingerbread lattes to Katie for zee plotting assistance and beta.

 

 

 _"This is when i forget breathe  
all the things i scripted, they sound unfounded."_  
\-- "I Was a Kaleidoscope," Death Cab for Cutie

 

 

 **Chapter 27: _Home Again Home Again, Jiggity Jig_**

The voyage home is more exciting than earlier anticipated. Mainly because JC assumed it would be him and Justin, knees scrunched up on a bus, and instead it's JC and Justin and Cornell, relatively unscrunched, in a rental car.

It's cool, very cool. They get to avoid the abyss of bleakness and despair known as the Foxwoods Casino bus stop and Cornell actually wants, actually volunteers, to drive the whole way. Because he likes it. He may be JC's new favorite person.

JC has to work the night before Thanksgiving, Justin's got a show he's supposed to shoot at, and traffic sucks that day anyway, so they all wake up at the ass-crack of dawn on Thursday, make a pit stop at Bread and Circus for baked goods and a large supply of apple cider and pumpkin flavored [ vegan donuts](%20http://www.nutrilicious.com/home.htm) for emergencies-- so goooood. Then they get the hell out of town.

 

Thanksgiving is filled with parental units asking carefully worded questions and the next day JC sleeps until eleven from sheer exhaustion. He never knew there was such a variety of polite ways for people to inquire about the direction he was taking his life in. At eleven thirteen his dad starts banging on the door and he's getting dragged out to brunch with the 'rents. This time attention focuses on his winter jacket, or the lack of, and his mother wants them to all head over to some Lands End type establishment, something that's found in a mall, and buy him an early Christmas present or at least a decent coat like his father's got.

JC's tries to explain about the concept of layering and the winter season's hoodie-under-denim-and-hands-stuffed-in-pockets look that he thinks he's rather rocking-- if he does say so himself-- and how really, really, you might not think it's that warm, but, it is. And really, his parents do listen to the schpeel, they do. But then he's got to try on his dad's coat, got to try it, because really, his mother insists, once he tries it on he might think otherwise. So JC gets to stand in the diner parking lot in some sort of red and black ski parka thing and look at his reflection in the window of the car while the clouds part and the fashion gods float down from upon high and loudly trumpet away his scene points. He flaps his arms a little and when he meets his mother's eyes she doesn't say anything for a minute, then just sighs and makes him promise to at least wear wool sweaters and long underwear at all times. Apparently this helps with the anxiety.

It's fun though. He misses all the diners sometimes. And other people paying for his meals. Before leaving Boston, he painted his parents a platter thing at work and his father seems rather tickled by it. They spend Friday afternoon sorting through boxes marked "JC's Room" and get piles together to take to Salvation Army. Then eventually it's after five and JC hops on the bus and heads over to Tony and Keri's.

JC never really thought that Cornell might be coming home with them quite this early in the Justin and Cornell Relationship. He's trying to explain all of this to Tony and Keri after he gets there, but it makes more sense in his head before the words get out.

"It's just so fast. Like, shouldn't there be a parental adjustment period? Or a Justin adjustment period?

Kerri looks at his skeptically. "With Lynn?"

"Okay, yeah," JC frowns. "Maybe that's a dumb thought."

"It's Justin," Tony shrugs. "He's got his voodoo. It's always easier and quicker than it would be with any other normal person."

"Besides," Keri comes in from the kitchen, "that's his secret anyway. He just decides everything will work out and rides on that all the way through while we're all still blinking and hesitating."

JC snorts. "Justin doesn't know the meaning of hesitate. Well, but no. He is careful--"

"He's careful, but once he check it out and decides to go, that's it." Tony laughs. "It's kind of like cockiness, only the way it's supposed to work."

"Yeah, I like it put like that," JC nods. "Mainly it's just weird to watch all this. When I came out there was angst. There was drama and a sleepless night or two."

"Yeah, but it's not like he's coming out right?" Tony shrugs. "He did that years ago."

JC swallows. He's not sure if maybe he's doing it again, but he probably is and he really can't keep buying the kid popsicles. "Every time I think it's resolved it isn't. Everything still feels weird."

Tony peers at JC with his head tilted left and taps at his martini glass, peering at JC. "I think I should say this, but I'm not sure you'll like it."

Keri looks a little wary, but she doesn't stop him. JC nods.

"See. You keep saying you're surprised. Or acting like you were. And I think that maybe you believe that, but that maybe you also weren't that surprised. Maybe you needed to not think about Justin and guys."

JC starts to shake his head, but Tony holds up his hand.

"Give me one more minute. Because, okay," he leans forward a bit and nods. "Maybe you needed to block that stuff out until you two pushed past a point where things would happen. Because it could have, but then you'd have about sixty more years after that where you didn't know each other and, really, the idea of not having you two in the same old folks home as me is pretty sad."

"But I don't like Justin," JC shakes his head. "I don't."

"No," Keri cuts in, "I don't think you do. But."

"Seriously, no. Justin?" JC shakes his head. "There's nothing there for that."

"JC." Tony laughs." I'm sorry, but. Honey. When you'd visit from college? Every flipping cat on the planet was asking if you two had a thing going."

"That's crazy, he was, like, a baby then."

"Hey man, I'm just reporting on what happened."

"Well, if some wacky people want to start weird gossip then whatever, that's on them." JC frowns. "People just do that to start problems."

"Well," Keri nods over at Tony. "Honey? Even Kevin asked Tony if you and Justin were a thing. When he met you."

"No." JC's kind of smiling now. "No way."

"Um, yes." Tony shrugs. "You two were sprawled on that plaid couch we had. He was in your lap."

"But. Okay," JC frowns, then holds up his hand. "Okay, I can see how that might have looked a bit confusing."

"Might have?" Keri's voice squeaks a little on that one. "JC."

"Yes," JC crosses his arms at her. "Might have."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "Whatever, I think the point is made."

JC frowns and stares out the window. There's a woman and a man with red hair getting into a car across the street. "I don't know what to say. I mean. I guess people could think that. But it's not like anything actually happened. Really."

"That's cool," Tony shrugs. "I know that. I'm just trying to say that you might have chosen not to. That some of the stuff happening now could be seen as related."

JC frowns at the linoleum for a minute.

Tony smiles at him. "Hey, you want me to change the subject now?"

JC nods. "Please?"

"Okay, but I pick first question," Keri grins. "I want to hear all about the Nick situation."

"The Nick situation?"

"Yes," Keri nods. "Talk. Now. And can I just say it sucks having all of you up there? Our intel is so limited these days. I get little snatches of news. And Nick's damn easier to get information from than you are."

"Oh," JC jumps a little. "Have you talked to him? Has he said anything about me?" He looks over at Tony and Tony shrugs.

"Not much. Really, you guys suck. You know we want to hear about this stuff."

"Okay. But what do you want to hear?"

"Stuff. Your side of events." Keri shrugs. "This town closes down around ten, how else are we supposed to keep entertained down here?"

"Okay." JC frowns and smiles at the same time. Or maybe just switches back and forth between the two. "He's working, still. He's living with this guy I knew-- know. AJ. Who's cool, really, so I think that's good, but I think you knew all that." JC rubs at his knee and then looks up again. "Um. I'm over there," he smiles, "a lot." JC looks over at Keri and she's shooting an odd look over at Tony. "Is he okay? What? Seriously. Do you think he's okay?"

"I guess he sounds relatively okay," Tony shrugs. "You'd know better than I would. There's the job stuff right now, but he keeps saying it's an adjustment thing."

"Yeah," Keri nods. "And the stuff with his brother, but I don't know. I think mostly he's got to learn to worry about himself first right now. It's not like Mother Carter's ever going to let go or anything."

JC nods and tries to act like he fully knows what they're talking about. Nick did mention something. JC nods again and finishes off his martini. It went away faster than he expected, but that's a good sign. There's a funny silence thing going on, but then the buzzer rings and Justin's shouting at them through the intercom, calling Tony "Big Poppa" for no apparent reason.

Keri buzzes them up and Justin and Cornell come rushing in, looking very upbeat. Justin pulls off his bag and puts it down in the corner. Cornell pulls off a layer of coat, hat, and gloves to reveal a second layer of gloves, scarf and sweatshirt. Pretty soon he's got a neat pile next to Justin's and when he looks up from folding the scarf JC's already laughing at him before he can say "I'm cold okay?" like the weather's his worst enemy.

Justin starts rubbing at Cornell's shoulders the moment he says it. JC stares at them for a minute, then blinks hard. They seem permanently happy or something. He'd like to say it makes him tired, but it also doesn't, not really. He's pretty sure it's the Justin voodoo at work again.

Justin's pulling at Cornell's elbow and talking to Tony. "Hey, okay, formal introductions. Cornell, Tony, Keri," he nods at each of them. "I'm sure you all have enough blackmail material on me to keep each other amused for ages."

"Well," Tony shrugs, "yes actually, that's quite true."

"Okay, but," Justin looks at JC's glass, "if you're going to start on that I'm going to make you serve me a drink first."

"Come on," Keri hops up, "I'll give you the tour."

Everyone joins in and when they hit the kitchen Keri does her best Vanna White twirl. Really though, what on earth kind of name is Vanna?

"So," Keri hands Tony two cups and turns her beady eyes on Justin. "What have you two been up to today?"

"Well," Justin taps a finger on his chin, "I really wanted Cornell and Mom to get face time. So we all cooked breakfast together this morning and she got to ask Cornell all the mom questions."

"Nicely," Cornell nods, "she was very friendly about it."

"Yeah, you totally passed. But I think the driving and the pie baking was quite the impressive intro."

"Hey," Cornell smiles back at him. "If there's one thing I've been taught it's that first impressions are very important." He winks at Justin and Keri rolls her eyes at them.

"Newlyweds."

"Hey, hey, did you tell them about my pie?"

Justin's grinning at Cornell and looking pleased as punch with the universe, but JC suspects the question was for him. He shakes his head. "Nope. I figured that was your story to tell."

Justin grins at Cornell and turns to Keri and Tony. "My boy made me a [pumpkin pie](%20http://www.peta.org/liv/r/pumpkpie.html). JC's dad was gonna roll over and die, I swear. All these years, I think he honestly believed vegan pie didn't exist."

Cornell looks pleased with himself. "It was kind of beautiful."

Tony nods. "Did you make him try some? Don't tell me he didn't eat any."

"Well, I don't know," JC frowns. "Dad ate. A bite maybe. But I think he washed out his mouth after."

"Yeah, he didn't have to do that part." Justin looks over at Cornell. "It was really good pie. Seriously."

"Oh, I know it was. I can make a pie." Cornell eyes the martini glasses. "Those look fun."

"Oh," Keri pushes off from the counter. "I knew I was supposed to be doing something." She heads back to the table closer to JC and pours more drinks.

"Oh, hey," JC nudges Keri, "Cornell's new. You know what this means."

Justin coughs. "That we need to be welcoming and not scare him away too quickly?"

"Well, that," JC nods. "Or get him fairly drunk and engage in time tested bonding rituals."

"Yes yes yes, this evening is screaming for drinking games." Tony jumps up and heads out towards the living room again. "Come along children, let's get you started."

First the drinking goes on for a while. Cornell tells the story of the three a.m. Soggy-Justin rescue with the van and JC enjoys hearing a slightly different version of the events that includes a new portion where Justin is telling Cornell that he's lost his keys in the disaster and can't actually go home. Apparently this would have worked better for him if Justin had remembered to unclip his keys from the back of his jeans.

After the clearly required gentle mocking, they settle in and attempt to explain the concept of no-rules-scrabble to Cornell, but, really, like any time someone new is initiated into its mysterious and pleasurable ways, the only way to learn is to just play.

JC's very enthusiastic about a new convert, but Justin rolls his eyes and leans over to Cornell. "It's not that great."

Tony rolls his eyes back. "Justin tells you this because Justin always looses."

"No one wins!" Justin snorts. "You just give up and start over when every inch of the board is covered."

"Yeah. So?" Keri shakes her head and slaps down S-P-U-N-T. "You have to start over if there's no more space." She nods and looks down at her word again. "It's a damaged can. When you go to the reject can bin in the grocery store, you're at the spunt bin."

Everyone nods at that and Justin's next. He attempts to tell them that M-O-V-A-H is an automated trolly for moving boxes out of trucks, but no one is buying it.

Tony shakes his head. "That's not a real word. That's a real word with a Boston accent. And you haven't been living there that long."

Justin retains an air of quiet annoyance and disdain while Cornell spells out P-E-U-M-N on his first try and explains to them that a peumn is a small bird from South America with blue and yellow feathers. Endangered of course, but there's a special breeding program that might be put into action, if the EPA can get the funding. JC gives him twenty-five points, just because.

Justin sighs. "You don't even keep points."

"It's okay," Cornell winks at him. "I'll share mine with you."

"No, you won't." Justin shakes his head. "I don't want them."

They cover the board and start over once, but eventually they move over to Uno, it's kinder on the Justin. Clouds shift in the window, the moon moves a bit and time passes. A lot of time passes. Cornell's leaning against Justin on the couch like he's the best pillow he's ever had and Keri went to bed at about three-thirty in the morning. It's almost four-fifteen. Finally, Tony declares his surrender, throws blankets at them all, and helps Justin open up the futon.

Cornell pushes his sneakers and Justin's into the corner and throws himself at the futon. Justin follows after and JC takes the couch. He watches as Cornell pulls at Justin's arms like he's another blanket, then turns around and doesn't watch anymore. They aren't made for his personal entertainment quite the way The Lance and Chris Experience is. After about an age and a half of lying there listening to them breathing, the fish tank bubbling, and getting no sleep whatsoever, JC gets up and heads for the front stoop, carefully jamming Stop 'n' Shop circulars in all the doors to keep them propped open.

JC's not quite sure what he's doing out there. He thinks about Nick for a bit and kind of wonders what he's doing right then. He might be in bed. His hair is probably sticking up in every direction. Then JC worries that he's being very Fivel in _An American Tale_. That just means "Somewhere Out There" is totally stuck in his head all of a sudden and that fucking sucks. He's really not as drunk as he thinks he should be.

JC's not quite sure what he's being, but he isn't secretly pining after his best friend. He knows that much. Justin's cozy, he knows more about JC than most people ever will and JC loves him like crazy, but he doesn't want to do nasty things to his body. Still, okay, maybe once or twice, ages ago, he had a drunken thought or two. Ages ago. Kind of like how he had a drunken thought or two about Tony in high school. Actually, a lot like that.

When JC first got to Boston he wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he was having fun and there was good sex with Kevin to come home to, so things seemed okay. The only catch was that it wasn't really okay and he still isn't sure it is. Having different jobs might help. Or health insurance. Or some clue as to what he's doing with his life.

He leans back a bit and doesn't think about Kevin or that maybe he's starting to know what Kevin might have felt like back in their not so happy ending. The front door opens up behind him and JC doesn't even have to look to know it's Justin.

"You're brooding." Justin sits down and leans against the other side of the steps. "I can tell. You have been all night. Why are you brooding?"

"Honestly?" JC frowns. "I've been thinking about this stuff Tony said about us. And I've been thinking about Kevin a lot."

"Really?" Justin sounds surprised. "God, I haven't though about him in ages."

"Yeah. Neither did I, but then I did." JC shrugs. "I haven't talked to him in ages. I always said I was going to be a person who would stay friends with exes when they were decent people."

"Yeah." Justin nods and there's a bit of a pause, then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cigarettes. "Um. I hated him," he grins, "but I recognize that it wasn't rational. I mean. He did seem like a cool guy. I just needed to hate him at the time. On principle."

"He's very activisty," JC sighs, "I think you'd have gotten along okay." He leans back and stares down the street. It's dark and overly quiet, but a car goes by down at the corner every once in a while. "I really am sorry about all that you know. Really. Tony's hinting that it was intentional denial on my part. I wasn't listening for a while, but he might be right."

Justin blows smoke out his nose and shakes his head. "Why the hell are you sorry? Seriously. There's nothing to be sorry about. Well, except for the whole secret heterosexuality campaign, you can be sorry over that."

"I just get sad about it." JC rubs at a hole in his jeans. "I feel like something big was going on and I had a responsibility or something."

"Seriously" Justin exhales and taps at his cigarette. "You stopped being my babysitter years ago honey. So you need to stop. And why the hell would I want you to comfort me or whatever if I liked you? That would have sucked. A lot. So yeah, denial was probably good."

JC nods at him and watches down the street some more.

"Besides, okay, maybe we're avoiding some parts of this. Maybe that's." Justin stops and takes another drag and frowns for a second. "I have a theory about the whole thing. Has AJ told you about the theory?"

JC shakes his head. "No."

"I ask because it was first developed while I was rather excessively drunk on his couch one night. I like to call it the 'I Will Survive' stage of the JC crush. It was fun."

"If you say so."

"No, it was all healing." Justin exhales fast and sits forward a bit. "Okay, see. Point one, we weren't going to hook up, we just weren't. I know that and I'm glad, now anyway. But them I pretty much knew it too. And, two. It was a friendship where we were very close before, after and during puberty. So awkwardness was going to ensue, period. And we just ignored all that because it was easier at the time. So, three. If you'd known on a really real level, if we'd talked, it would have made you all concerned and me grouchy and everything would have been horrible. The friendship would have exploded and then who would we spend Thanksgiving with? So, ultimately, really, this is all good, the way stuff went down. Now it's too late to do anything but move along."

"Okay, yeah," JC nods. "I can see some of that happening."

"And really, I had AJ to bitch to. He was fabulous." Justin finishes off his cigarette and rubs it out on the step, then looks up. "Call Kevin."

"What?" JC starts.

"Why not? Just call Kevin." Justin shrugs. "If you're worried about how things ended, if it'll make you feel better, call him. Maybe there are unresolved whatevers in your subconscious."

"I think it might. Or, maybe it'll be good practice."

"For what?"

"Well," JC looks down the street, "in case Nick and I need to whatever. I still want to hang out with him."

Justin frowns. "Somehow I can't really see you two going there. But okay, practice never hurts."

"Yeah," JC nods and a truck goes by them, rattling funny. JC nods again. "Yeah, okay."

Justin reaches his foot out and nudges JC. "What's up with you two? Something's weird."

"Well, that's kind of it." JC shakes his head. "It's weird. I've just got a funny feeling sometimes when I talk to him." He looks back at Justin. "I'm not sure he's happy maybe? But really, nothing's happened enough to tell." Justin frowns at him. "No really, I think it's a wait and see thing," JC yawns. "Give me a bit."

Justin nods and doesn't talk for a second or two. "So, are we cool now? Do I need to sing 'Kumbaya' at you until you scream and surrender and promise me we'll be Best Friends 4-Evah and all that shit?"

"Shut up," JC rolls his eyes. "That would just be, man. I get to worry sometimes, okay?"

"Shut up yourself." Justin stands up. He holds out his hand and pulls JC up as well, then turns him around and pushes him up the stairs. "You're thinking too damn much. Go to bed already."

JC yawns. He figures that's answer enough.

 

 

 **Chapter 28: _Slices of History and Culture at Every Turn_**

They're playing Portishead over the loudspeakers. JC's staring at the back of Nick's neck, listening as he orders coffee or, no, something involving whipped cream.

JC has long-held pre-Nick fantasies involving Portishead, a comfortable bed, and lots and lots of skin to touch. That and the bit of Nick's neck that he can see, are making waiting to order difficult. It's making thinking about ordering coffee difficult. But then Nick turns around and asks what JC wants, so he gets to shrug, tell Nick "just surprise me" and not know what he's going to wind up drinking. He enjoys the adventure in that.

JC watches as the guy returns with their drinks. He's got a mini-mo and a genuine DIESEL ass. It's a very effective display. JC looks at Nick, amused. Nick's looking at the boy. Which, okay, doesn't really worry JC. Much. Because you can't really care about these things, unless they're part of some bigger picture. JC's not worrying about that part either. Much. He taps at the side of his paper cup instead.

JC drifts over towards the cream and sugar station to doctor up his drink a bit. Nick follows and starts in about his weekend.

"So," he grins. "It was good. So good. I haven't had so much fun in Boston in ages. I even went and bought a guide book for the occasion."

"A _guidebook_ guidebook?"

"Full on [Fodor's](%20http://www.fodors.com/miniguides/mgresults.cfm?destination=boston@33) baby." Nick looks pleased with himself. "AJ came with me one day and pretended he didn't know me whenever I pulled it out."

"Yeah?"

"Yup. He stopped coming after that too," Nick shrugs. "But I was kind of glad about that. I really liked being on my own. I felt very zen about things."

JC smiles. "The _Tao of Piglet_?"

"Something." Nick shrugs. He hops a bit as he walks. "So, I think I need that more. I've been all weird feeling lately, I mean, I'm sure you could tell." He stops a minute and looks back at JC. "I'm sorry about that, really." Then he starts walking again. "So I'm thinking I need more alone time. I mean part of the point of coming here is to finally learn some independence, right?"

"Yes?" JC tries not to say the question mark out loud. He looks down at his scarf and then takes a sip of his coffee. No, latte. When he looks up again Nick is smiling at him.

"Did I choose okay?"

JC nods and drinks so more. "Yeah."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

Nick frowns and shifts his hips a bit. "Walk faster already, we've got catch up time to spend."

JC keeps walking. He's not really sure how to interpret any of the past two minutes.

 

When they get back, Lance is stretched across the couch, looking very cat meets cream. He crosses his arms before he starts speaking and JC's not sure what's up, but he already feels nervous.

"Sooo. You would not believe who just called for you."

JC shrugs. "Who?"

"Mr. Kevin Richardson. For you. Why on earth is he calling? And now?" Lance looks at Nick. "I mean, really."

JC blinks. "Um."

"Well, alright, he seems like a very nice guy, swell even, but what is it with exes calling. Well, not that I have many exes calling, just occasionally, but they do always seem to want reassurance or something. Confirmation of meaning or whatever BS. Hmm," Lance frowns, "okay, that might be something specific to me. Your exes seem less fucked in the head than mine."

"Well," JC shrugs, "I kind of--"

"How long has it been anyway? At least a year or so, right? And he was all 'hey Lance how you doing?' The hell? Oh." Lance blinks and looks at Nick. "Am I supposed to?"

JC snorts. "Good lord." He turns to Nick. "Kevin is an old boyfriend. I emphasize old. And former, ignore Lance." He looks back over at Lance. "Kevin probably called me because I called him." Lance frowns. "I called him because he's a nice guy and I fucked him over."

"Well," Lance shakes his head, "I wouldn't say that."

JC shakes his head back and keeps looking at Nick. "Let's just say he was rather decent about some things."

"So," Nick nods slowly. "You're hanging out with him now?"

"Well, I mean," JC looks over at Lance who's watching them like a sitcom and shakes his head. "Let's move."

Nick nods at JC's room and Lance glares at them as they head down the hall. JC closes the door behind himself and Nick sits down on the bed, watching JC.

"It's just. Kevin and I were a miss, we weren't meant to date," JC shrugs and looks at his hands. "But I want to be someone who doesn't have things end weird. I want things to be cool and people still able to talk. So," he looks back at Nick, "I called Kevin."

Nick nods, but he doesn't say anything. Mainly he looks like he's trying to decode a secret message.

"I mean, if it's weird or anything--"

"No." Nick shakes his head. "Whatever." He pokes a finger into JC's mattress. "One thing I'm sure is that you wouldn't. It's cool."

"When I was home Justin and I were talking about him and I think. I mean sometimes people hook up and it's just not going to work that way. And I don't think there's any reason why people can't be adults about it."

JC thinks maybe he's babbling but he's also thinking it's important to say. Nick nods at him again. JC kicks off his sneakers and flops down next to Nick. He lies there for a minute and stares at the ceiling. He's got a million questions but he doesn't want to ask them. Or at least not yet.

Nick's not talking. Eventually Nick reaches over, hits the play button on the tape player, and then stretches out next to JC. They lay there for a while with their sides touching, listening to a copy of [_13_](%20http://www.blurtalk.com/default.asp?sectionid=1&pageid=13) that AJ made once, but then forgot to take with him. It makes for interesting atmosphere.

JC shifts over onto his side. "Tony and Keri missed you."

"Yeah?" Nick smiles. "I missed then back."

"They were worried about you. Something about your brother?"

"Oh." Nick nods. "Yeah. I think that's sort of settled. Well," he rubs at his forehead, "it's not settled, but I kind of realized I wasn't able to fix it."

"That's a good thing, right?" JC smiles.

"Yes. It kind of is." Nick swallows and closes his eyes. He's got blue in his shirt and JC thinks it makes him pop out of the scenery, something like an IMAX movie in 3-d.

JC stares at him while he can. The music is playing and Damon's singing "care-a-mel, care-a-mel" over and over. Everything's feeling slow and the room is still holding on to a little daylight, barely; almost at the point where the lights need to go on and the shades come down for them to see each other. JC's cold but they're lying on all the blankets he's got so he just listens and tries not to repeat the words aloud.

It's just after four in the afternoon and it's as good as dark out. JC had forgotten that Thanksgiving basically means they're inside of winter.

So then, why the hell not? He leans into Nick more, his hand moving just inside Nick's shirt and resting to the right of Nick's belt buckle. Nick tastes a bit like caramel, the remains of his drink sticking to his mouth. When JC's shirt comes off, Nick's nose hit's his bare shoulder and it's cold for a minute, colder than JC expects. But then Nick's moving his hands, one palm onto each shoulder and those are hot on his skin. Everything feels like extremes, with something slightly sharp in the background. Nick is pulling at JC's belt, opening the buckle and pulling the pants down his legs. JC pulls at Nick's sweater, tugs it up and off.

They aren't talking at all. Nothing except a word here and there. "Hey, your arm," and Nick pressing on his elbow. Little bits of words.

JC pulls away and leans out and over to the ever handy nightstand. Everything that Nick isn't touching is suddenly cold as he moves and he heads back even faster than he left, pushing back in so that he's looking up at Nick, grabbing at his hips, and pulling Nick towards him until he gets the message. It's definitely dark now and JC looks out the window at the street light, trying to see something while Nick drags two fingers over the bones in JC's hips and then down, pushing them inside him. JC closes his eyes and when he opens them Nick's looking down at him, frowning.

"You have to tell me when you're ready."

JC shifts right, just an inch maybe, and nods, liking the way Nick's fingers move inside of him. "I am."

"Okay."

JC's still cold though and when Nick finally pushes himself in and leans down over JC, JC grabs at his hips again and pulls Nick down on top of him.

Nick falls hard and JC tilts his head back to breathe. Nick looks down at him. "Um. Hello."

JC smiles and moves his right leg up to pull Nick in closer. "I'm cold."

Nick nods and looks around, starts to move back, but JC holds onto him before he can go anywhere. "No, don't do that." Nick leans up on his elbows, pulls his hips back and away and then pushes in again. "Okay, yeah," JC smiles, "do that."

Nick tilts his head at JC, then shakes it. "No." He grabs onto JC's shoulders and leans left, rolls them over and then over some more until JC's lying on top of him and they're angled diagonally across the bed, one of Nick's feet reaching for the floor. "This way."

JC nods at him and bends, his forehead to Nick's left shoulder, his hands pushing into the mattress and his hips pushing down and then pulling up again over and over. Slowly, because he's going to last past the song. Because he wants to last past the album. Because he wants to focus on this, stretch it out, and not get up, turn on a lamp, or pull down the shades. This is enough to concentrate on for the current moment.

 

 

 **Chapter 29: _Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone_**

JC hates shows in December. He hates having to plan layers for the outside that can be packed away into bags on the inside or, if the bags are banned, figuring out ways to avoid coat check. God didn't intend man to use coat check. Right now he hates waiting outside in Central Square in December, while people take their bloody time to arrive.

He taps at the wall for a while with the back of his right foot, then switches to the left. He's carefully positioned against the wall, just to the left of the yellow "[Middle East Downstairs](http://mideastclub.com/)" sign, standing in the official "I Am Waiting For Friends, Do Not Bother Me" pose. Packs of people head towards the door, individual people push off the wall to meet them, and seven more minutes pass before Justin rounds the corner. JC squints at him for a second; it looks like Justin's got a body slung over his shoulder, but then it shifts and it's just Justin's massive green duffel, the one he's had since Boy Scouts, slung over his left shoulder. He's got a plastic bag in his right hand and it looks like the lump at the front is his messenger bag slung on backwards. The plastic bag has a plant sticking out the top of it.

JC keeps his foot on the wall and waits for Justin to come closer, then he points at the plant. "Is that Hazel?"

Justin throws down his duffel and it hits the ground with a massive thud. "I'm never going back to that apartment again. You couldn't pay me to enter it. And my plant most certainly is not staying there if I'm not." Justin crosses his arms, then immediately uncrosses them and tugs at his bag. "Fucking god I need a cigarette."

"But it's cold. Can the plant be out in this weather?"

JC," Justin looks up at him, "it's a plant."

"Okay," JC sighs, "keep talking."

Justin flicks at his lighter and leans in towards JC. "I come home last Wednesday and he's playing Creed on my stereo. My stereo, mine. He defiled it." Justin shakes his head. "I've got that thing hooked into my phonograph, man. What if it just refuses to play my records? Refuses forever, goes on strike."

"It might," JC shrugs. "I mean, could you blame it?"

"Nope. That's the worst part." Justin shakes his head. "However, this is only the beginning of my tale. I tell him, flat out, that I don't care what he has to do, but that there will be no playing of Creed on my stereo. He agrees. Day turns into night. Night turns into day. Night comes again. Um," Justin looks down as he exhales. "So I haven't been home every night lately. I sleep over at Cornell's some nights, right?"

JC nods at him. "Joey and I were debating about how that was progressing."

"Um, yeah." Justin turns a bit pink but it might be the cold. "So I'm home Sunday night. I wake up at some point and I've got to use the bathroom, right? So I head out of my room and when I go past the kitchen," Justin shudders, "I hear this noise," Justin shudders again and looks right at JC, "and there is a pizza box, just sitting on the floor. With a mouse-rat-thing sitting in the middle of the fucking pizza box, eating."

"That's disgusting."

"Yes, it is. That kind of thing is not permitted in my kitchen."

"No, I think not."

"Oh," Justin holds up his hand, "but I'm still not finished. Still."

"I'm kind of afraid." Justin raises an eyebrow at that and JC steps back. "Hey, I do not mock."

Justin nods. "So we discuss the pizza-rodent situation. He swears we'll get cleaner, I promise to find the [havahart](http://www.havahart.com/store/product.asp?dept%5Fid=17&pf%5Fid=1020&mscssid=JKUJ2PEWM6WJ9KKMAWB4GW3G3ELM242A) traps and again we settle into our lives." Justin pauses. A girl walks by and begs a cigarette off of him. "Okay. I take you to earlier today, this evening in fact. As I come home from meeting up with Chris, I unlock my door and walk down my hallway and I see, in the glow of the television, someone's bare-fucking-ass fucking Jacob on my fucking sofa."

"Wow." JC isn't quite sure how to even respond to this one. "Wow. Is that really your sofa?"

"Yes it's my fucking sofa and it was Wade's fucking ass, JC. Wade." Justin takes a quick pull from his cigarette, smoke leaking out of his nose. "Can I underline that? Jacob. Plus Wade. Ass fucking. My couch."

JC thinks he's nauseous. "Dude, stop. I really don't need a picture."

"I'm saying."

"I mean, it's bad enough hearing Britney talk about sex with him. And his teeny tiny dick. Oh," JC frowns, "Britney."

"I'm saying."

"Oh, this is kind of bad."

"I'm not going back there." Justin shakes his head, hard. "I won't. You can't make me."

"No, I think you and Hazel get the couch tonight," JC frowns. "Unless you want me to find Cornell?"

Justin shakes his head. "Um, if we were past a few months maybe. But I'm thinking my mother was enough of a step for November already. Besides, I don't know how he feels about houseplants yet." He looks at his watch. "It's almost ten."

JC nods. "You want to go inside?"

"Fuck yeah." Justin flicks away his cigarette butt. "Britney needs to be notified, stat. And he's not killing my evening."

JC grabs the plastic bag and Justin hauls up his duffel again. They get to the door and the bouncer tilts his head at them.

"Hey, you can't bring that shit in here."

Justin frowns. "Why not?"

"That things a fucking body bag. It's huge."

Justin leans to the left of the door and squints at it, then the right. "You don't have a no bag policy posted. JC are you aware of a no bag policy?"

"Nope." JC shakes his head. "You let me in with my bag all the time."

The bouncer, who's named Fred and JC's never really liked, crosses his arms. "Look. Don't fuck with me here. I don't have to let you in, period."

Justin looks pissed. "Oh, fuck you. It's bad enough that The Man has passed laws that say I'm not allowed to smoke while taking in a show. It's bad enough that I just had to see fucking Wade Robson's naked behind as he fucked my now ex-roommate. But now you're telling me that even though I'm carrying my apartment on my back, only a show and the kindness of friends to lift my spirits, you're telling me you won't let me get in and get down to the music?" Justin turns to JC. "That's wrong."

JC shakes his head at Fred. "That's way wrong."

Fred doesn't say anything for a minute. He looks like he's processing, or trying to. Then he holds up a hand. "Wait. Robson. Wade Robson?"

"Um." Justin looks confused. "Yes?"

Fred grins, huge. "Britney's Wade Robson?"

"Oh." Justin bites his lip.

JC nods. "Yeah."

"Fuck yeah." Fred nods and shifts his baseball cap on his head so the brim is angled. "She know yet?"

Justin frowns. "No, why?"

"She came in about thirty minutes ago." Fred steps back to the door and pulls it open. "Please, enter. And feel free to tell her both loudly and in a public area."

Justin's mouth forms another slight 'o' shape. He looks confused, but JC pushes him inside and turns back to the bouncer. "Thank you."

Fred goes back outside, looking ridiculously pleased with the world. JC looks at the closing door and rolls his eyes at it. "That guy needs to get the fuck over it."

The head down the stairs and Justin opens one of the glass doors, wincing as the heat hits them. He nods towards the merch area at the back. "Come on, I bet we can sweet talk them into watching this crap."

After ten minutes of pleading they're about to give up, but then Britney finds them with a large "hey y'all." She knows the merch folk, of course, and soon they're walking away, gear happily hidden and a discounted drink promised to them over at the bar.

Joey finds them there. Once he says his hellos, JC maneuvers him further away from Justin and Justin starts to move with Britney over towards the little booth at the back. Joey looks after them, frowning. "What's that all about?"

"Wade." JC rolls his eyes. "Justin gets home tonight and Jacob and him are hooking up on the couch."

Joey chokes on his drink. "That's fucking disgusting. That couch was gross enough already."

"Tell me about it." JC nods towards the railing around the edge of the bar area and they meander over to lean for a bit. There's a girl to JC's right wearing a green polyester pantsuit and a full-on beehive hairdo. He blinks at her for a minute, trying to figure out how her hair stays up, but then she notices and glares at him, so JC looks around and pretends he wasn't staring. "So," he nudges Joey. "Kelly here?"

"Hey," Joey frowns. "I wasn't lying about it."

"I didn't say you were."

"She really thought she could make it. She didn't plan to get called into work."

"No," JC shakes his head. "I'm sure she didn't."

Joey looks down at his drink and shakes the ice around. "That's what she told me, okay? I don't really want to think about it."

"Aww, honey," JC puts his hand on Joey's shoulder.

Joey shrugs at him. "Fuck 'em." He frowns. "Things better with Nick?"

JC shakes his head. "I don't want to think about it."

Joey nods and takes another swig of his beer. "Yeah."

That's about when Britney and Justin find them again.

Britney's looking Xena levels of pissed off. "Have you heard this shit?" JC nods at her and opens his arms wide. She leans in and then looks up. "JC. I've been sleeping with someone who'd sleep with Justin's roommate." She shudders. "How could this happen?"

AJ elbows in towards them, past the beehive hairdo chick, and leans against the railing. He doesn't say anything, just nods at the group and waits. JC pets Britney on the head for a minute, then shakes his head. "Sometimes these things just happen."

AJ frowns. "Sometimes what happens?"

Britney looks up when she hears him and turns very white, then leans down to tug at her tights. They're black and white striped, to go with her checkered leg warmers.

Justin is shaking his head at AJ when she leans up again. "Wade. He's hooking up with Jacob. I found them on the couch when I got home today."

"Wait," AJ looks at Britney, then Justin. "That's your roommate?" Justin nods at him and AJ looks back over at Britney. "Mophead's kicked him out."

She blinks. "What?"

"They decided they wanted him out," AJ shrugs. "I heard the buzz a few days ago. They want a better lead singer."

Joey frowns. "I don't get it."

AJ grins. "He hasn't been a lead singer for at least two days now. If he fucked Jacob today, who cares. He's not something you'd touch with your pretty fingers anyway." AJ grins again, grabs her hand, bows and kisses her wrist.

Britney pulls at the edges of her skirt and curtsies back at him. "You are a peach."

"One day baby" AJ winks at her. "I've got to find me a band first." He looks over at the stage. "The openers suck, but the group on at ten forty-five isn't that bad. We should move in."

An agreement of sorts is reached. Or, no one disagrees and that's pretty much enough. They head down from the bar and into the main crowd, sticking to the left side. The opener is still going and they still kind of suck, but they're bouncy about things at least. JC's okay with that. Britney pulls at JC's arm and shakes her hips at him until he gives up, grabs her hand and starts dancing. JC twirls her out and she cackles, then the music dies out with a bit of a clank from the sound system and the band doesn't even try to get an encore, thank fucking god.

They stand around for a bit and watch the stage while instruments get moved around and horrible screeching noises come out of the speakers whenever some tech person tries to test them. They're next to another one of the little poles that theoretically support the ceiling. Justin scowls at the three "StraightXXXEdge" stickers on it, mutters a bit, and picks at the bottom one until it peels off and he can throw it away. JC doesn't have a clue what the next band's called. They wander out to the stage and are sorta punk looking, but then they start up with the loudest version of "Ask" that JC's ever heard and it's all fucking good from there.

Justin pogos over to the side with Joey and AJ elbows JC to yowl "the Bomb, the Bomb, the Bomb that will bring us together." The room is ridiculously hot, as always. JC pulls off a few more layers and stuffs them into his bag, then Britney is elbowing him to dance again.

She looks over at the lead singer, frowning, then back at JC. "You think?"

"They're from somewhere in the tri-state," he shakes his head at her. "What's the point if they aren't local?"

She nods and looks over at AJ for a second. "Yeah." JC smirks at that, but tries to keep it subtle.

After the cover's over, the group starts playing something new from a cd they're proudly selling with the merch. Apparently it's the band's demo and they're so pleased with the word that they drop it into the banter at least six times. JC's afraid to know their ages. He thinks he could be their father or something, they look so young. He's not sure if he's the oldest person in the room, but when he looks around he knows most of the crowd's younger than him and that he's been to farewell concerts for at least three of the bands with their concert posters displayed on the walls.

Maybe he is old. Maybe this is a transition point and he's supposed to be giving up shows and getting A Life, whatever it is that people his age seem to be getting _en masse_. JC blinks and it seems like four songs before he starts to pay attention again.

By midnight typically he'd be tired, but tonight he feels like he's just starting to move. Britney declares that they're all moving to her place and burning Mophead posters with her. Joey insists that if they run, fast, they might make the last T, but Justin shakes his head at that.

"No way, no. There's no point if you don't stay through to the encore. Show karma people."

AJ and Britney nod along to that and they all stay put.

It's worth it. Ridiculously worth it because the band finishes out with a rock version of "Parents Just Don't Understand" which slips right into "Back in the USSR" like they were made to be performed together. Clearly the group is cracked in the head, but JC swears to be at any and every show they play in the area forever and ever more.

He looks around again as they're moving to pick up Justin's stuff and realizes that Nick would have liked this. He could have bought Nick a drink and called it a date. Or maybe JC could have pulled him into the alcove where the bathrooms are and have engaged in some traditional dark hallway make-out activities. JC's frowning to himself when Justin elbows him.

"Hey, stop that. Hold Hazel, focus on the beauty of nature."

JC starts to frown again, but he takes the plant instead. They move out past a clump of emo boys sporting thick black glasses and loads of corduroy, and closer to the stairwell. JC looks at Joey. "I kinda miss my boy."

Joey smiles at him and lets a girl cut past him in the crowd. "You think maybe he's off with Kelly, saving the world?"

JC starts to shrug, but AJ and Britney push back through and into the group, pulling on coats. Justin scowls at Britney and waves his hand towards Joey and JC. "They're brooding. Make them stop it."

Britney shakes her head at them. "It's not worth it. Brood tomorrow, tonight we focus on me me me and my pain and horror. And we burn things."

"Right now, this place is a sauna," AJ nods towards the door. "Let's move."

JC's got the houseplant and Justin's got the body bag. AJ and Joey jump and down like idiots in the middle of Mass Ave and eventually one of the taxis isn't too afraid of them to pull over. When the driver realizes it's five of them, plus baggage, he starts to shake his head, but Britney throws on the charm, promises they'll be good, and hands him ten dollars up front. That plus a hair flip makes the driver very willing to bend the rules. Once they're driving along, Britney promises them all spots on her floor for the night and nachos perhaps, if the cheese isn't super moldy. Justin starts to say something about that, but JC tilts his head back against the seat and watches out the window instead of listening. Maybe the brooding can wait, at least until morning.


	8. Part Eight (Chapters 30-34)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Haircuts - Slang term for certain members of the freak community, typically Mods. Can be affectionate: One Mod to another in the wilderness, "look! In the distance! I see Haircuts!" Or very much not affectionate: "Ug. Look at the Haircuts. They think that gets them a membership card?"
> 
> \--  
> From an ancient time, before hipsters. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks and more thanks to Katie for everything.

 

 

 _"He's not strange  
He just wants to live his life this way."_  
\-- "Vicar in a Tutu," The Smiths

 

 

 **Chapter 30: _It's Easy to Support Social Change Even When You're on the Go_**

JC may have fallen to the dark side of the force. Or, he may not have. It's all a matter of personal perspective and opinion. Unfortunately, JC's not sure what side of the perspective he's on. Instead he's decided he's in a trial membership period where he tests out life in this strange new territory he's chosen to be in and then determines how he feels about it later.

Currently he's keeping a little mental list of pros and cons. Pro: The cellular phone was obtained through [Working Assets Long Distance](http://workingassets.com/). AKA, a company further away from The Man. Con: According to his Father, all cell phones have little chips inside them that government satellites can use to track you. AKA, power still in the hands of The Man? Pro: JC's father has always been a bit paranoid about new technology, and the universe in general. Con: Being a technophobe can garner a scene point or two these days.

Basically, the vote is still out on the phone. And really, JC suspects he should be paying more attention to the democratic primaries anyway. Only right now he mostly hates all the candidates, or is confused over who's affiliated with which health care plan-- and confused by the health care plans in general, really. Angsting over his new cell phone-owning lifestyle is definitely a simpler solution. Perhaps this is some kind of metaphor for The State of Things in America. JC's a bit concerned about that part.

And on that note, he opens said cell phone and calls Britney.

"I'm obsessing over the phone again." JC sighs, Britney sighs, he tries to outline the problem further. "I tried to read that thing in the _Phoenix_ about Kerry, but then there was an ad for free minutes after seven pm and politics went out the window."

Britney's laughing at him over the connection. (Pro: points for modern ingenuity and signal clarity.) "You've already had it a week, just give in. And really, ignore the primaries, at least until they get closer to us."

"It's a thirty day trial period. I won't surrender until a month has past," JC swallows, "and if I wait until the actual vote, I'll miss all the important details."

"What important details?" JC assumes she's rolling her eyes during the pause. "Well," Britney clicks her teeth at him, "then you might as well resign yourself to keeping the phone so you can move on and deal with the confusing articles."

"Fine," JC sighs, "I'm changing the subject now. Can you take Justin for a few nights this week?"

"JC," Britney's voice develops a bit of a whine when she says his name. "I had him for three nights last week and AJ and Nick had him after that. Can't Joey take him? Joey needs to take a turn."

JC stops at a bus stop and ducks inside the little shelter to sit. "I tried him already. He won't return my calls." (Con: Not owning a cell phone means answering machines and ease of call avoidance.)

"That's mature. It's not like Justin isn't house broken or something." She sighs again. "Whatever, fine, I'll call Joey."

JC grins, but tries not to sound too eager when he speaks. "Would you?"

"Ass. You know that's why you called in the first place."

"Hey." JC starts to stamp his foot to show offense, but gives up part way through the motion. "Okay, maybe a little. But you're so good at making him do shit."

"Whatever. Where are you anyway?"

"Outside," JC looks around, "at a bus stop." JC looks at his phone and it's only one- ten p.m. "I'm supposed to meet Kevin, but I'm way early." (Pro: JC doesn't always remember his watch.)

"You're actually meeting him?" Britney snorts in his ear. "God JC, why?"

"Well," JC checks his shoelaces, "I said I was committing to this."

"Yeah, that didn't make any sense either. Not that you're listening to any sense there period." Britney sighs. "Just remember, you are not Nick. Nick is not you. Let it be a mantra running in your little brain."

JC doesn't get it. "I don't get it."

"Yeah, well, that much is clear." Britney sighs again. "Whatever honey, right now, go forth and do the things you think need to be done. I shall be here, cell phone on and at the ready, awaiting your call if needed," she pauses. "Okay, well, I won't be here exactly, because I'm going shopping with Lance, but we'll be somewhere, with a phone, if needed."

"You're sweet."

"I try, occasionally. But right now I've got to shower, because I smell."

"Have fun with that."

"Oh, I'll try. Goodbye JC."

"Goodbye Britney." JC flicks his phone closed with a twist of the wrist and enjoys the motion. There's a bench behind him and a lady with a blue coat is staring at him funny. (Con: Personal conversations are no longer very personal.) JC checks the time again. At this point it's one-fifteen and he might as well go, so he does.

 

Kevin is waiting outside when JC arrives. This doesn't surprise him. Kevin says hello and they exchange a half hug and very European kiss to the cheek. This also feels very Kevin-like and suddenly JC's remembering all sorts of Kevin related details like eating dinners at [Club Cafÿ](http://www.clubcafe.com/), driving to the beach on weekends, and listening to jazz music while debating air emission regulations and wearing black turtlenecks.

Their meeting is at this [coffeeshop](http://www.titalia.com/site/locations/default.asp#boston) on lower Newbury that Kevin was always fond of and JC hasn't been to in ages. It's very into its italianess, but they have awesome and huge chocolate chip cookies which JC adores. Kevin gets the coffee and a grilled sandwich, JC orders the cookie and a hot chocolate; life is good. Except for the part where the conversation is a bit awkward, the space is small, and the table wobbles whenever one of them leans on it.

"So," JC says, stirring sugar into his cocoa.

"So," Kevin says back at him, but then they call him for his food and he leaves to get it. When he sits back down, he spins the plate a bit. "You'll notice I'm still eating tuna fish everywhere."

"Joey and I were fighting over best tuna melts again the other week," JC grins, "it reminded me of you."

"I'm pretty fond of the ones they make here." Kevin looks around. "I haven't been here in a long while."

"Yeah," JC nods, "I remember this place." He looks at Kevin's plate. "It's been an age or two."

Idle chit chat and reacquaintance banter follows. Kevin asks the obligatory questions about work, JC discusses the world of part-time jobs and granola-retail. JC inquires about friends and family, Kevin mentions an attempt at a long distance relationship that fizzled. He looks a bit gray after that, so JC describes the recent fall of Lance into Relation-dom and the subsequent drama to bring in some levity.

They're chucking over an incident in which Lance accepted keys to Chris's apartment when Kevin gets serious for a moment.

"Hey though," Kevin says around a bite of his sandwich. "Seriously, good for them. It's good to establish that for yourself and try settling into something more serious."

JC nods along with that, but he's not really sure what it means really, specifically. It could be a pointed comment, but it doesn't have the right vibrations. He opts for a subject change. "You still protecting the bears?"

"No," Kevin frowns, "I couldn't deal with all the complications and I jumped ship. Now I'm dealing with the [wind farm debate](http://clf.org/advocacy/windpower.htm) and things like that. There's this trash dump they tried to [slip into Brockton](http://www.ratts.net/)." Kevin takes a drink from his mug. "Fuckers. They piss me off."

JC smiles, Kevin swearing always made him giggle. "I read some article in the last [_Mother Jones_](http://www.motherjones.com) all about that stuff. There's some town dealing with crazy asthma rates."

"You're reading _Mother Jones_ these days?" Kevin raises an eyebrow. "Articles on environmental causes, even?"

"Well," JC rolls his eyes, "one has to overcome irrational annoyances and get on with life sometimes."

"Good for you." Kevin nods and manages not to make it feel too patronizing. "You finish school yet?"

"Ah, well, no," JC frowns. "And don't think I don't hear about it whenever I'm home."

"I hope you do." Kevin snorts and eats some more of his sandwich; bits of tuna keep falling out and onto the plate. "It's important," he wipes his hands on a napkin. "More important than being able to read a magazine anyway. Do you want to be in these part-time jobs all your life?"

JC tries not to frown, Kevin does instead.

"I know it's not my place to speak on this. And it's not my call, but it's an important question at least to think about."

"I don't know," JC shrugs, he doesn't particularly enjoy thinking about it. "How is going off and temping any better than the situation now? At least I'm not working nine to five."

"If that's important to you," Kevin nods. "But it's not like it has to be temping."

"Yeah." JC breaks a piece off his cookie and then breaks that in half again.

"God," Kevin rolls his eyes. "I'm not having this conversation again. We're not," he smiles. "You're not thirteen and I'm not going to be anyone's parent. Tell me something else. Tell me who the current boy is."

"Oh." JC swallows his cookie wrong and concentrates on not choking for a minute. "Well," he drinks more of his cocoa. "I guess there is a boy, sort of? I'd say yes, but I'm not sure if that's the correct answer."

"Well," Kevin leans back in his chair and appears rather sympathetic. "I figured something had to be going on for you to call me. I've read _High Fidelity_."

"Why does everyone--" JC frowns. "I did want to see you."

"Sure," Kevin shrugs, "okay. And when you called I called you back, right?"

"Yes."

"So there we are. But I'm not going to. Okay, I'm sure this doesn't need to be said, but I'm going to say it just in case, yes?"

"Sure," JC shrugs.

"I'm not interested in anything. That's assumed, correct? Because that scenario has disaster written all over it and I'm pretty content with my life as is."

"Look, no." JC picks up the little brown stir stick from his plate and concentrates on it instead of Kevin. "That's not why I'm here, at all. I just. We never talked afterwards."

"Well. It's not like either of us wanted to."

"It just seems sad now, not to have kept in touch."

"Maybe, probably, but it was certainly healthier." Kevin shakes his head. "You were completely unhappy," he shrugs, "and I wanted an apartment with guest room-slash-study and dinner parties on Friday nights with my friends. I even enjoyed going to sleep by eleven so I could get to work by eight-thirty."

Kevin places his hands palms down on the table. When he leans forward, the tabletop tilts wildly and JC watches his drink slosh over the edge of the mug.

"It's just history," Kevin shrugs. "You were clearly miserable and frankly, in hindsight, I'm not sure what we were thinking or why you came with me in the first place. But it's over now and no one's dead from it, right?"

"I wasn't that miserable." JC works on mopping up some of the drink from his saucer. "I just never really fit into that picture very well."

"Well," Kevin nods and hands over some of his napkins. "I'd say that you were welcome in it. But that it was pretty clear that it wasn't what you wanted. Even if maybe you thought you did." He smiles. "I don't think it was particularly your color. I'm rather into the contemporary grays with whites and reds and the blank spaces, you're better in plaid."

"Okay, I get that." JC piles the soggy napkins in a little heap and wipes off his hands on the leftovers. "Hey. I am sorry, you know."

"Whatever." Kevin shrugs again. "Well, not whatever, but you know I try to have a no regrets policy."

JC frowns. "I guess maybe it was a bad idea to call you."

"Well, It's definitely interesting to check in. But there's not much else, is there? You've got your life, I've got mine."

"Yeah." JC nods, but he doesn't really get the last part. Mostly he'd define his current life as time spent in-between something. God knows what. "So. Who you rooting for in the primaries?"

Kevin stops his mug midway to his face. "You're following the primaries?"

"Um. Of course? There's a huge election coming."

"Well," Kevin nods, takes a sip, nods again. "Well, I'm still conflicted. And I'm assuming half of them will drop out before it hits Massachusetts."

"Good point," JC taps on the table, "very good point."

JC checks his watch because it's easier than squirming in his chair and wondering. It's already about two-thirty, which is comforting. He doesn't want to try and leave for at least another thirty minutes though, just on principle.

Kevin attempts to explain what he knows of the various healthcare plans being debated on the airwaves and JC nods along and fogs out a bit. He's remembering when he met Kevin at that party, when they stood in someone's very orange kitchen and how impressive Kevin was. He had a job ready and waiting for him in Boston, an apartment, a ten-year plan, his sweater was probably cashmere and he looked damn attractive in green scarves. JC remembers thinking, 'this. I want to figure out how to do this.'

After he kisses Kevin farewell on the cheek and they both agree, really, that they're glad they got together, JC walks back towards the T thinking, yes, he probably did follow Kevin to Boston, just to try and figure out how he did it.

 

 

 **Chapter 31: _Normal Childhood Experimentation_**

JC takes the long way home. First he thinks he's just walking up Newbury Street, skipping the Green Line and heading straight for the Orange, but then he's walking around the station and hitting the bike path, barely noticing that he didn't pause.

He's walking fast, his scarf carefully tugged up and over his chin, and he's listening to Morrissey wail at him about stretching out on back seats. He swerves to avoid a biker and a woman with a stroller, then stops in front of a giant, round cement planter with ornamental cabbages in it, blinking, because he almost walked straight into it.

Ultimately, at this moment, JC's really not feeling okay. He'd like to blame this on the existence of ornamental cabbages, but the world doesn't quite work that way and JC has learned at least that much about the universe since leaving high school.

He kicks at the planter, then winds his way around it. It doesn't help much, just makes his toe sore. He keeps walking.

And yes, maybe there is a giant fucking metaphor happening to him here about a person finding themselves walking along the bike path of life and realizing they're on a path, walking, surrounded by bikers and joggers and annoying breeders with babies in carriages. Maybe there is, but this annoys JC even more than-- well, than many things that annoy JC, so he's ignoring it.

He really wants to get laid, like, immediately. Run out and dance his ass off and suck someone random off in the bathroom. Only, he doesn't need a college degree to tell him that's a stupid impulse. All of it is too damn familiar anyway and JC is really really fucking tired of all the stories of his life just being the tales of his boyfriend's lives with JC as the faithful sidekick.

And really, everyone has annoying codependent phases in their past that they wish had never happened. Phases that clearly should have been buried very deeply in the earth and never seen again. Everybody.

Only, this being the modern world-- or whatever they're calling it in the news these days-- these phases get captured in photographs and, no matter how hard a person tries to pretend these phases never ever occurred, a person still comes home and finds senior photos left out on mantelpieces, piles of hackey sacks in odd drawers, and-- worst of all-- Phish bootlegs neatly boxed, labeled and stored for them by well meaning and loving mothers. And, more importantly, Justin will always be there to bring these things up when they get drunk and need a good story.

The thing with the Phish phase, the key to the Phish phase, which JC hastens to add and to emphasize when this point in his life is revealed to or discovered by others, was that it was about love, really. Lots and lots of puppy love. And pot. And JC being more than a bit bored. Maybe sex, to a degree. And there was a boy named Steve. JC's only a little creeped out by the way Nick manages to flatten him even more than Steve ever could.

A whole lot of electric guitar bursts out of JC's discman and he shakes his head at the noise. He looks to see if there's anyone around, but there's just a woman biking away in the distance. His cell phone is in his pocket, it feels different than his keys when it hits his hip.

JC doesn't really think he cares about the cell phone. He knows he cares about the election, despite what Kevin might have expected from him, and he knows he's not sure how he feels about his life right now, even if he's pretty sure Kevin's ideas or his parents or whoever's aren't necessarily what he's looking for either. JC knows he doesn't like offices, but he knows he's tired of his parents paying for him to go to the dentist. He knows he doesn't mind opening a store, sometimes, at eight a.m. or wrestling inventory when he gets the chance, but when it comes to the day to day duties JC knows he's getting bored. He knows there are a lot of things he doesn't know.

The summer of junior year, JC got into this summer arts program that every freak kid in the state tried to get shipped off to. He spent the first month throwing paint on _papier-mÿchÿ_ and enjoying himself immensely. The second month he decided to try a pottery workshop and the next thing he knew a kid named Steve was holding his wrists over the pottery wheel, showing JC how to place his thumb at the side of the clay to form a curve in a vase, and making him mix tapes with names like "One Bear, Two Bear, Red Bear, Blue Bear." Steve used stickers. JC was distracted by the stickers. He blames a lot on the stickers.

At this point, Steve and Phish are a four a.m., post-party, heap-o-bodies on the floor fairy tale, but it was also kind of JC's life. If Justin's around when the story is being told, he likes to interrupt a lot and provide what he calls "context" to help with the telling of it. Details like: "You realize, of course, that none of this would have gone as far as it did if I'd been in the same school as him." Which, JC admits, is probably true, but he's not sure.

Because it wasn't like JC had anything better to do, or any better ideas, and Steve, despite his mix tapes and love of pottery, had a plan. He was focused, saving money, and applying to small liberal arts colleges in the cities of Boulder, Portland, and Seattle. All of which sounded pretty jolly and acceptable to JC, so he did exactly the same thing.

Because it wasn't like JC had anywhere better to be after Colorado or was enjoying living with his parents, and Kevin, with his bar exam passed and his new job plus moving stipend, was all zen and centered, moving to Boston to work for change. And yes, environmental, but not wearing Gore-Tex and, in general, more than acceptable company in the evenings.

The next thing JC knew, he'd been living in Boulder for almost two years, had apparently lost half his short-term memory, and he was really tired of trying to explain what being a Human Ecology major was to people back east. Mainly because he himself wasn't really sure how both pottery and fishing policy became requirements in the same major.

The next thing JC knew, he'd been living in Boston, in Kevin's apartment, for something near a year. And he was tired, Kevin was tired, and there they were, all over again, only this time, JC didn't have a clue how to leave.

 

JC arrives back at the apartment and finds Chris sitting in the hallway, leaning against the front door. He's writing in a green notebook but JC hears his headphones blasting before he sees him. JC worries a bit about early hearing loss, but Chris spots his feet and looks up before JC can think up a lecture.

"Hey," Chris pulls off his headphones. "I knew one of you would arrive eventually."

"Yeah?" JC pulls up the flap on his bag and starts to dig for his keys. "What are you up to?"

"Waiting. Writing." Chris picks up his bits and pieces and stands. "I'm trying to describe the feeling I experience when watching the debates. Mainly it's, if only we lived in a world where Carol Moseley Braun was actually a viable presidential candidate. Then I just get distracted by Dean's facial expressions.

JC finds his keys and they clomp inside. "She seems cool."

"First African-American woman in the Senate." Chris nods and throws himself onto the couch with a sigh. "Nice cushions."

"Yeah," JC sort of nods at him and tries to hang his things up on the coat rack somewhere between Lance's fifty million scarves. Chris's eyes are boring little holes into the back of his neck and JC doesn't want to turn around.

"So," Chris throws out, "where were you today?"

"Well," JC turns around. He's still holding his scarf. "I met up with this guy I used to know, Kevin."

"Oh," Chris nods. "The ex, right?"

"Yeah." JC looks down at his scarf, maybe he's still cold. "Does anyone not know about this?"

"Nope," Chris shakes his head. "Now sit down and tell Chris the story."

JC decides it's silly to wear the scarf. He sits down at the other end of the couch then frowns. "So I'm sitting there and Kevin asks me if I like part time jobs. He just points out that it's a good thing to know."

"Well," Chris shrugs, "do you want to do anything else?"

"Not particularly." JC pokes at the arm of the couch. "Can you honestly see me in an office somewhere?"

"Can you see me in one?" Chris leans back and taps his fingers against the arm of the couch.

"But what am I going to do in twenty years?"

Chris rolls his eyes. "I say fuck 'em."

JC raises an eyebrow and Chris shrugs. "Hell, in a few years I'll start saving for retirement, which is better than a lot of people do."

"Yeah, kinda." JC takes a minute then nods because it's quiet and he feels like he has to do something. JC does, occasionally, feel the need to do things. It's just that he's never really leapt upon a thing specifically.

JC's never had any particular problem being weird. He rather enjoys that part. He just doesn't quite have a thing, a shtick like the others do. Justin has a shtick, Joey has one, and Chris definitely has one, or several. JC's not asking to save the planet, but he'd like a bit more of a feeling of satisfaction and purpose in his daily work. He tells Chris as much and Chris nods like it's the most obvious thing ever, which JC isn't sure how to take so they watch TV instead of talking.

There's a show on about a woman walking the entire globe. She's sponsored by the Lions Club and JC had no idea that the Lions Club existed in every country on the globe or even in some place like Greece. That's pretty damn cool, getting put up by little Lions Clubs all around the globe. Pretty damn clever, too.

There's also a lawyer, former lawyer, who's rocking out in glasses and dreads. Looking wicked cute and talking all about how he quit the world of law to open the bakery of his dreams. The bakery is very yellow and hip, but not too hip and they show the guy telling someone to fold in the kiwis at the end of a recipe. It reminds JC of [Flour](%20http://flourbakery.com/). The guy looks like he's in his element. JC looks over at Chris, who's writing in his notebook again.

"Did you ever hear about me living in the van from Lance?" Chris is looking confused, so JC keeps going. "When I was in high school and," he tries not to pause but he can't help the mental wince, "I went to all the Phish concerts?"

"No," Chris snorts, "Lance has never, ever, mentioned that. That I would remember."

JC sighs. "I was with this kid, this guy, Steve. He had a van and we'd go to all these Phish concerts in a row, but we'd pick people up and give them rides along the way." JC looks back at the television and it's a commercial about bath towels. "It's a thing, like wearing the patchwork dresses. You carpool, with anyone really." He shrugs. "Only, it's expensive to do. So I started buying ramen packets and tea, instant coffee, and Twinkies and then I'd sell them. And then that covered gas so I started making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches too, which meant sometimes we got a motel room."

"Yeah?" Chris steals the remote and flips around a bit. Howard Stern is on and they both wince. Chris keeps flipping.

"Magic fingers on the beds in some of those rooms too," JC grins.

Chris smirks. "Nice. Classy." Chris gets to the _Lawrence Welk Show_ and cackles then sits on the remote.

"You bet." JC looks over at Chris. "See, I think I could be good at that."

"What?" Chris looks at him like he's grown another eyebrow. "Magic Fingers?"

"No, ass," JC glares at him. "Selling things. A store or something. But if it was ever going to happen I'd need so much else to happen first," JC frowns, the woman singing to them is surrounded by pink bubbles. "Well, money mainly, start up."

Chris looks over from the screen. He looks surprised. "You want to open up a business?"

JC starts to shrug then just nods. "Yeah? With other people, maybe. Help manage it."

"Huh." Chris is leaning back and staring at him. "Really."

The woman with all the bubbles is singing about the happy heart in Tennessee. JC's starting to feel a bit odd. "Well, it might not be the. I know it's not really realistic."

"Well," Chris shrugs, "you never know, do you?" Chris stares off at the wall for a minute. "You know what this means, though You do know something you're interested in doing."

JC attempts to think about it. Mostly he really enjoys the idea of having a back room for schedules and orders and juggling employees. He likes the idea of running something or helping to. He also worries that he's crazy and he knows he's romanticizing.

Chris shifts a bit on the couch. "Have you ever talked with Lance about this? Because you should. He did go to school to learn all this stuff."

"Yeah." JC nods then nods again. "And school, definitely. Two years of being a Human Ecology major isn't really a good set up for starting a business of some sort."

"Wait." Chris shakes his head. "Wait. Human Ecology?" JC nods at him and Chris sputters at him. "Dear god. JC."

"Look," JC frowns. "Look. It was a valid choice, okay?"

"No," Chris holds up a hand. "Pardon me while I play the role of arrogant snot for a moment, but no," Chris rolls his eyes, "it's so not."

JC glares at him. "I was young, okay?"

"Was this before or after vegetarianism?"

"After. Besides, that's totally different. So different."

"Yes," Chris nods. "And if you were mature enough to reject meat you were mature enough to reject Human Ecology."

JC crosses his arms. "Some people find Human Ecology a wonderful and perfectly valid lifestyle choice. And personally, I prefer to experience different possibilities before judging them."

Chris snorts. "Some people are Republicans. That doesn't mean I'm gonna try voting Republican to see if I'm for sucking the oil out of Alaska."

"Republicans are people too."

"So I hear." Chris sighs. "You try dating someone that's probably going to be one in thirty years."

"Mm, yes, well," JC pokes at the arm of the couch. "I can see where you might have concerns about that."

"Mm." Chris looks over towards Lance's scarf collection on the coat rack. "I'm not giving up hope on that yet." He looks back over at JC. "So, what did you do?"

"When?"

"Back then," Chris gestures behind them. "How did you escape the calico wearing, Human Ecology lifestyle in which you found yourself?"

"Oh," JC swallows. "I kinda went home one winter and got deprogrammed by force."

"Ahh," Chris leans back and nods. JC assumes that means he wants more information.

"Well," JC rubs at the back of his neck. "Justin hadn't seen me in a while. Like, several years. And I'd changed," JC grimaces, a bit. So he kind of flipped out when he saw me and forced me out to the nearest show with a mosh pit." JC sighs. "Which was totally fine until this skinhead tried to kick his ass over his belt or something. Which meant I had to try to kick the skinhead's ass, and then the skinhead's girlfriend jumped on me and completely whooped my ass." JC touches the side of his head. "She ripped out my dread too. It was the only one I had. We'd even named it as a joke."

Chris rolls his eyes. "Thank god for small miracles."

JC glares. "I worked hard to grow that thing."

"I'm sure you did, baby," Chris nods. "I'm sure."

"Yes I did. Thank you." JC decides to ignore the sarcasm. "So we made Tony come and rescue us, because they were gonna call Justin's mom if we couldn't get a ride. Then we just went over to Tony's place and got trashed." JC shrugs and leans forward on the couch, closer in towards Chris. "But then I woke up picturing all of Steve's fleece socks in the sock drawer and, fuck. I really really hate those stupid fake tribal patterns that they come in. Oh, and hiking, I never wanted to go hiking again.

The clincher was when Justin put on a cd and I realized that I hadn't heard an electric guitar being played properly in years-- with the exception of Jimi, of course." JC leans back again. "So, yeah. That was kind of that. The next day we all hung out and they took me to try and cover up the missing hunk of hair, and that was my first, big, haircut." JC looks at Chris and smiles. "And thus ended one era and began another."

Chris rolls his eyes. "I think I should interview you for an essay: 'To Human Ecology and Back: Thoughts from JC along the road to recovery'."

"Hey man," JC looks around for something to throw at him. "That's my life you're mocking there."

"Yeah," Chris nods, "I'm trying to forget that part."

"Shut up already." JC hits him and glares. Chris actually obliges.  

There's a long quiet bit that could be about to turn awkward, only it gets interrupted by Lance's arrival. The shopping bags precede him through the door and he follows, looking pleased with himself. Shopping with Britney can be a dangerous sport. Many learn this the hard way, but Lance has always embraced the adventure wholeheartedly. He also tends to have more in his checking account than JC does, which helps.

This day's excursion clearly involved some high priced shopping, as Lance's bags are marked in stylin' fonts and words like FCUK and DIESEL. JC takes note of the bags and returns to his sandwich and the bad television. He predicts, however, that Chris will not do the same.

"You know," Chris casually adjusts his right sleeve. "A t-shirt from either of those places would cover at least two pairs of pants in a normal store."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Well then, I guess you'll just have more pants than me. Perhaps I could wear yours."

Chris snorts. "You're too damn tall." He frowns at Lance. "And you spend too damn much on your pants."

"Do we need to debate this?" Lance sighs. "Do we really need to?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'm worried about the starving children." Chris looks over at JC for support but JC shakes his head firmly. "Some little kid somewhere probably sewed those in the dark for, like, a dollar a day."

"No," Lance shakes his head, "I don't feel like discussing this. Besides, that would be The Gap or Target. I bet these kids at least get a complementary flashlight for their troubles." Lance picks up the bags again and walks away towards his bedroom.

Chris looks at JC. JC shrugs. There's a woman getting interviewed on TV via satellite. She's talking about the euro.

Chris is listing the many, many reasons why "Pictures of You" was a totally inappropriate choice for a commercial marketing campaign when the bedroom door opens again. JC doesn't turn to look, but he hears Lance walk back in and can sort of see him lean against the doorway.

"Oh fuck you." Chris clears his throat.

JC looks over and snorts. Lance has changed. The shoes and socks are off, the cuffs of his jeans hit the floor, and yes, that is definitely a DIESEL ass with, JC suspects, a FCUK shirt. JC looks over at Chris. He's swallowing again, or he might be trying very hard not to laugh, JC can't tell which.

"You know," Chris turns his head towards JC, but his eyes are still on Lance. "There are certain political ideals that are just unswayable. I mean, children are starving in Africa and I have found many a good shirt at Salvation Army and the Garment District. So really..."

Lance crosses his arms. He's smiling, but he reminds JC of the Cheshire Cat. Chris has stopped talking.

"So," JC says, trying to sound cheerful. "Yes? The starving children?"

There is, in fact, a long pause. Lance is still looking at Chris, but he pushes off the wall. "Yes Chris, you were saying?" He walks over and sits down in the middle of the couch. He pulls one knee up against the back of the couch. If JC sits straight up in his seat he can see where Lance's toes hit Chris's thigh. But he's not looking or anything.

"Well," Chris's face is very, very blank. 'I just think it is a lot of money to spend. I mean--" He looks down at Lance's foot. "Oh, you are such a bitch. You know what happens to me when you aren't wearing socks. There's no way we're having this conversation if you're going to stoop to... Fuck. JC, I apologize, but you're going to have to excuse us now."

"Now?" Lance's face seems to be trying to arrange itself in a way that looks puzzled. "No, I really want to hear what you have to say."

"Mm," Chris shifts on the couch, "I bet you do." He puts one hand on Lance's ankle--the ankle that JC isn't looking at, but just happens to be viewable-- and rubs his thumb over Lance's ankle bone. Then he leans into Lance, puts his mouth on the side of Lance's neck and licks. He looks back up, smiling, then leans in again and sniffs. "Your shirt still has a new car smell to it."

JC is watching Chris's thumb, it's working up under the cuff of Lance's pants. Chris starts to lean in again and JC can see Lance's head tilting towards him, but Chris pulls back and stands up.

"I've got an article about socially responsible purchasing. I left it in your room for you."

"Really?" Lance sounds deeply interested. "How thoughtful."

"Yes," Chris nods, "and if you can keep me quiet while we're in there, JC might actually believe that we're just going in there to read it." Chris turns and begins to walk away.

"Oh, don't worry," JC reaches for the remote. "Turning up the volume helps quite a bit."

Lance puts his foot back down on the floor and stands up as well. "No no," he looks at JC, "trust me. I'm learning how to keep him quiet."

"Well, you know," JC turns up the volume. "I'll let you know if it's not working."

JC hears the door close, but Lance must have been practicing because he really doesn't hear much after that. Even when he hits mute on the television. And at this point, apparently JC has no shame, because he has no difficulty admitting to himself that he feels a bit disappointed about that.

After a while he's thoroughly bored by CNN and he decides to take a nap. He wakes up in time for _The Avengers_ but it isn't actually an Emma Peel episode, so he channel surfs for a while and worries that he's watching too much television.

Chris shuffles out looking ridiculously relaxed and heads straight for his spot on the couch, yawning until his jaw cracks.

By the next commercial break, JC realizes he's hungry. "I'm getting food. Do you want anything?"

Chris shakes his head and starts flipping TV channels again. JC decides on food and comes back from the kitchen with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when Chris clears his throat.

"So, look, since you're in a talkative mood today, I'm going to be pushy and ask." Chris shifts a little on the couch, just so he's facing JC. "Have you talked to Nick lately?"

"Oh," JC frowns and pauses halfway to the couch. "Not today, why?"

"Okay, because what's the deal with you two right now, really?" Chris is keeping his voice very calm and even. He's reminding JC of David Attenborough, talking near hyenas in one of his nature documentaries. "You're hanging out with ex-boyfriends and Nick's reading these short, sparse little poems to the group about lone wolves in big cities and tumbleweeds across his heart. It's depressing me."

JC's not sure he likes being a hyena. "I don´t know what to tell you." He wipes his palm across his knee and stares at his fingers. "I'm not hooking up with Kevin or anything. I can tell you that."

"Yeah, okay." Chris grabs a magazine off the table and starts rolling and unrolling it in his hands. "Does Nick know that?"

"He should." JC concentrates on taking a bite of his sandwich.

Chris frowns at him. "Don't you think that's something you should actually know?"

JC frowns back. "Look, there are a lot of things I'd like to know. A lot. But I don't." He looks at Chris. "I'm trying to be cool about this. I want to let Nick do his thing. That's important." JC nods to himself and then shrugs at Chris. "But I'm not going to just be happy about it, okay?"

Chris blinks at him once or twice. "I didn't understand any of that." JC sighs but Chris shakes his head. "No, just say all that again, slowly. And maybe use more words."

JC closes his eyes, rubs a hand up the back of his scalp and opens them again. "Okay. Nick. He has to do what he needs to do. I know that." JC shrugs. "He's left home, he's in The Big City, his family scares me. If he needs to back off and have some space, I'm not going to crowd him."

Chris leans back on the couch and crosses his arms. "That's very noble and stuff, but since when has Nick been feeling crowded or needing space?"

"Well," JC takes another bite of his sandwich and chews for a bit. "Okay, we haven't had some huge conversation on the subject, but it's a thing lately. He's backed off. And he had this whole speech about being in the city on his own and how he's trying out being on his own for a while." JC looks down at his plate. The only jam he had in the fridge was ginger. (Seventy-five percent discount from Joey.) He's not sure how he feels about it with peanut butter.

"Look." Chris sighs and looks at Our Lady of the Perpetual Bathtub like he'd appreciate some back up. There are no apparent miracles. "I don't want to speak for anybody, but," Chris leans forward again. "Nick was a lad stuck in his house and way enmeshed with his family. He has unstuck himself and moved to The Big City, experiencing newfound independence of spirit and personal growth, hooray for Nick. A side benefit of all this positive self-change, running along side it as it were, is this lovely little whatever the two of you have developed." Chris coughs. "I'd call this 'whatever' a Relationship. Blind mice would call it a Relationship. Jerry Falwell might even call it one. You don't seem to me to be something Nick wants or needs space from."

"Well, wait," JC frowns, "come on. It's not like I don't have a pattern here."

"What pattern?"

"The moving, the following" JC shrugs. "All that."

"No," Chris rolls his eyes. "I reject your pattern. There is no pattern. Why has no one lectured you about this properly?"

JC glares. Chris sounds way too much like Justin at the moment.

"Okay," Chris sighs. "Maybe there was a mini-pattern. But I emphasize was. Isn't it just possible that none of it is that complicated and that you do actually know what you want from the situation?"

JC frowns and eats the last of his sandwich.

Chris crosses his arms again and stares at JC as he eats. "There's no fucking pattern."

JC wipes his hand on his knee.

"I don't see anyone moving to Kentucky any time soon."

JC shrugs and rubs a the chip on the edge of the plate. "Maybe."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

JC rolls his eyes. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," Chris shrugs, "acceptable response, but god. Don't wait until you're fifty for fuck's sake. There are poems about tumbleweeds."

JC rubs his shoulder. He doesn't know what to say anymore. Instead, he just gets up and heads for the kitchen. Instead, he focuses on washing the dishes.

 

 

 **Chapter 32: _Bongos and the Grime in the Bottom of a Coffee Cup_**

The thing is, JC thinks, lying flopped across his bed and staring up at the ceiling, he wants Chris to be right. The thing is, JC thinks, staring down at his sock drawer, attempting to make a decision, there's no harm in a little creative visualization to determine future events.

Halfway to the T he realizes he should call before materializing in front of Nick. Opening up his cell phone he decides it's possibly the best purchase he ever made.

Nick answers the main number in his business appropriate voice and JC almost thinks it's someone else.

"Um, I'm coming to see you. Right now." JC nods to himself and to an elderly lady nearby in a green sari.

"Now?" JC can hear Nick swallow. "Here?"

"Yes. This is important." JC opens the door into the train station. "I'm at the T. I'll be there in, like, forty-five minutes or so. Okay?"

There's a pause but then Nick says "okay" back at him.

JC flips the phone closed and power walks over to the turnstiles. He slides his T-pass through, slides himself through after, and stands on the platform, tapping his foot.

Eventually, after an age or two, he's at Harvard Square and taking the stairs up to the street two at a time. He winds his way down a million side streets and almost gets lost twice but eventually he's at Nick's office and when he peers through the doorway Nick nods, standing up to greet him.

Nick leads JC downstairs and keeps checking behind them. "I'm calling this a bathroom break, okay? An extended one."

JC nods and keeps following. Nick is wearing brown old-man pants and an orange tie that JC bought him for no real reason whatsoever except that it had a checkerboard pattern on it which matched a pair of Nick's socks. The bathroom's on the bottom floor, the basement probably. It's little, just two stalls, and there's a box filled with toilet paper rolls under the counter. JC wonders if he can keep some. Nick sits on the counter, then nods. "Shoot."

JC turns to face Nick. "Do you think I'm hooking up with Kevin?"

Nick frowns and stares at JC for a minute, then at the paper towel dispenser, then looks back at JC. "Honestly, I can't really tell. Are you?"

JC frowns. "You shouldn't have to ask that. I can't believe you need to ask that."

Nick shrugs. "I guess some things I just need to ask."

"I'm not." JC leans against the side of a stall. "I'm not and we wouldn't. Fuck," he looks down at a fingernail. "It's not even a thing. A possibility.

"Okay." Nick nods. "Okay."

Nick isn't saying anything else and it's the twitchiest kind of quiet in the bathroom. JC sighs again, walks over and leans his head against Nick's shoulder. "It's so far from being a possibility it's almost funny." JC looks down, staring at a button on Nick's shirt. "I don't understand what's going on."

Nick snorts. "Like I do?" He rubs at JC's hair. "You're really fucking confusing lately."

"No," JC sighs, "you're really fucking confusing lately."

"Ahh," Nick chuckles. "And there we have our problem, don't we?"

JC looks up. "Chris said you're writing poetry about lone wolves and tumbleweeds across your heart."

Nick snorts. "Fucker."

"You never show me your stuff."

Nick sighs. "I'm not just going to keep putting everything out there. Not if you aren't going too."

JC frowns at him, but Nick shakes his head.

"You don't. You sit there and you could get a fucking brick to talk to you, but you don't tell me shit." Nick leans back on the counter and stares at him. "It kind of pisses me off, okay?"

"I don't." JC turns and walks into a stall, then walks out again. It's about as close as he can get to pacing in the space they have. "I don't really know how I'm supposed to respond to that."

Nick rolls his eyes. "You don't need to know how to respond, you just need to respond. God, just say what you're thinking."

There's a sticker on the wall about how ninety-two percent of women carry lip protection, but only ten percent carry condoms. JC thinks someone was confused about which bathroom they were in. He hopes it wasn't Nick. Nick is looking back at him expectantly. JC looks back. "I don't want to fuck this up."

"Eh," Nick shrugs. "Whatever, talk to me anyway."

"No, that's what I'm thinking." JC shrugs. "I really don't."

"Okay, neither do I."

"No, but. I just." JC leans against the wall. "We do stuff and I like it but I don't want to screw with it so I don't want to tell you or tell you too much." JC crosses his arms. "Because maybe this isn't a thing for you. Maybe this is just a little fun whatever and that's cool, I guess." JC stops and looks at his thumb. He ripped a nail earlier. He coughs, "Okay, no, not really, but I'll take what I can get, really. I think I just need to know what that is." He looks over at Nick. "Right now I don't know how to act about anything.

"JC." Nick rolls his eyes at him. "You don't think this is a thing?" He crosses his arms. "I'm angsting about you and exes and, yes, possibly writing about tumble weeds across my heart, but you aren't sure it's a thing?"

"Well," JC rubs his shoulder then frowns. "It's not like we ever said we were a thing."

Nick makes a noise. JC thinks it was a snort. "We didn't have to, we just were." Nick jumps down from the counter and walks over to look at JC. "You think too damn much sometimes." He butts his head against JC's shoulder.

"Hey," JC hits him. Well, taps him really and it kind of turns into a rub.

They stand there for a while and JC can feel Nick's chest move with his breathing. The building's really quiet too. Nick's eyes are open. He's thinking about something, or nothing, JC can't tell what. Then Nick looks confused.

"Why is there a birth control sticker for women in the men's room?"

JC shrugs. "If you brought me into the women's room and we're going to freak out some old lady in a minute, you realize I'm blaming it all on you, right?

"This is not the women's room."

JC looks at him and nods. "I'm trusting you on this."

"Good." Nick nods, then looks around. "There's a urinal, it's not the women's room."

"Okay." JC nods.

"Okay." Nick still looks nervous. JC laughs at him. Nick kisses him then steps back. "So," he nods, "I'm glad you came by,"

"Yeah," JC nods. "Yeah. Do we need to do anything now?"

"No." Nick sighs. "We don't need to do anything."

"Okay." JC smiles. "Okay." Nick hugs him, or JC hugs Nick. Either way it feels nice. It feels like a thing.

 

*Chapter title from [_History of Beat Poetry_](%20http://www.liglobal.com/beat/)

 

 

 **Chapter 33: _Wheat Gluten is the New Playdough_**

By mid-December Justin has turned in his final project and is beginning to venture from the darkroom for longer and longer periods of time. To prove that he's still among the living-- and because his final project was kick-ass-- Justin has declared that there will be festivities across the land. Or, barring the participation of the collective nation, a group gathering for lunch at [Buddha's Delight](http://www.digitalcity.com/boston/entertainment/venue.adp?vid=61212) where the fake meats and bubble teas are plentiful.

JC continues to be creeped out by the existence of bubble tea. He's not sure where the appeal is in adding things that resemble either fish eggs or eyes-- whichever is the worst-- to a slurpee-like drink. How does this make it into something tasty and desirable? Exotic, yes, he can see how it's exotic, but tasty? Desirable?

Nick stays over the night before the get-together and the two of them accidentally spend most of the evening not sleeping. This means they're more than a bit late in rising the next day and, consequentially, are about thirty minutes or so late meeting Joey. He's dead asleep on a couch in the lobby of the [Emerson student union](http://tour.emerson.edu/mediadisplay.cfm?view=ShowGallery&StartRow=2&locationID=17) when they do actually arrive, but JC taps him on the shoulder and Joey jumps right up to leave.

The three of them [head across](http://www.mapquest.com/directions/main.adp?mo=ma&1ex=1&src=maps&un=m&go=1&2ex=1&1a=96%20Beacon%20St&1c=Boston&1g=qkK1D4j7rDQ%3d&2a=3%20Beach%20St&2tabval=address&1l=6m%2b8%2fjjpH14%3d&2c=Boston&cl=EN&2g=VyMlT%2b9ZILQ%3d&1s=MA&2l=VlMwnjw5tlQ%3d&ct=NA&1v=ADDRESS&2n=SUFFOLK%20COUNTY&1y=US&1tabval=address&1z=02108%2d3316&2s=MA&2v=ADDRESS&2y=US&2z=02111%2d1610) the Common and dodge an overly friendly man playing an electric piano while wearing a massive Cat-in-the-Hat hat. JC wonders how cold the guy must get, sitting out there all day. They head into Chinatown and when they get to the restaurant Lance, Justin, Britney, and Cornell are all sitting there, waiting and guarding a table. Justin looks at his watch, then at JC, but all JC can do is look at Nick, look exhausted, and say, "oops?" Joey rolls his eyes at that and then just grabs them some more menus.

Halfway through his spring roll, Joey breaks his news.

"It's not that you can't stay over, I'm not going to leave you out on a street corner for christ's sake. It's just that Kelly might be coming over," he swallows, "probably, actually is coming over and I'd rather. It would be easier, if we could just chill." He shrugs. "You know, higher connecting and bonding potential."

"Yeah," Justin nods and looks at Britney, then at JC. "But when has she actually come over Joey?"

Joey frowns. "She might."

Lance crosses his arms. "But what was actually said?"

Joey frowns again. "That she might stop by. What is this, the Inquisition?"

"Joey," Britney looks down at her tea. "She does kind of say that, repeatedly, and then never come by."

"You guys suck." Joey glares at all of them. "I would like support here, okay? Nick, want to add some negativity in too?"

"Hey," Nick throws up his hands. "Just the date here."

"Fine," Lance sighs. He looks at Justin. "Why are you still crashing on couches, anyway? You need to just move in with JC. I'll leave." He rolls his eyes. "I can't deal with this anymore."

"Wait," JC puts down his spring roll. "What?"

"I'll figure something out," Lance shrugs and reaches his chopsticks out for another half of a spring roll. "Consider it my good deed for the year."

"Um, no?" JC looks around for someone else to please be equally befuddled. "Am I the only person hearing crazy-talk here?"

Justin's looking at Lance rather skeptically. "Or something."

Cornell's looking worried. "Do you have some place to stay?"

Lance shrugs. "Chris can deal with some boxes until I get another place."

"Oh?" Justin snorts and rolls his eyes simultaneously. It's a gift of his. He holds his hand out and looks to JC. "Phone." JC passes it over and Justin immediately punches in numbers, waits, then smiles at no one in particular-- the wall perhaps. "Hey. It's me." He swallows. "Cool. Yeah, question." Justin taps at the table. "Are you moving or something?" He nods. "I see." He looks over at Lance. "And just when did you and Lance decide to move in together?"

Nick snorts at that and Joey elbows Lance in the side. "Freak." Lance glares at Justin, but spreads it around to hit the rest of them as well.

Justin just looks pleased with himself. "Two weeks? You don't say?" He nods. "Yeah, that's all. Just curious. Okay. Smooches."

Justin flicks the phone closed and looks rather smugly at Lance.

"You know," Joey looks around the table, "I don't care what you think about Kelly, I still think one person here is at least more fucked up about these things than I am."

Lance glares some more. He's good at it. "I hate you."

"Honey," Britney frowns at him, "is there some puppy or something that died at a young age and fucked you over? We've gotta get to the root of this and dig out the weeds."

"No," Lance shakes his head, "no we don't. And there's no fucking puppy, my dad was allergic."

"Hmm," Cornell looks at Justin, then back, "maybe that was the problem."

"Dude, whatever," Justin shrugs, "a person gets to fix their shit on their own if they so choose."

"Thank you Justin." Lance nods and chews on some more of his spring roll.

"However," Justin smirks. "We are so throwing you a housewarming bash."

"Um. No, thank you, but that's definitely not required." Lance appears to be a bit alarmed. "Really, not."

"Oh," Britney crosses her arms and gets her I'm-getting-my-way-here-really face on, "I think it's quite quite necessary. I mean, Cornell can show us how to bake things."

Justin nods. "And I know a guy who DJs."

Lance is looking even more pained now, but the main course arrives and they get a bit distracted. JC busies himself with his bowl of "duck" with ginger and vegetables and tries not to make too much of a deal over how much he loves the sauce. All he knows is that sometimes, in certain isolated situations, imitation meat is a-okay.

After JC's got a few bites in he looks at over at Justin.  "So, I guess you're moving in with me?"

"Um." Justin looks at Cornell, then Nick, but fast like he's trying not to. "Is that okay?"

Cornell leans back and half shrugs. "Depends." He looks at Lance. "You leaving that nice big bed of yours behind?"

Lance smirks. "Might be. There is a rather comfortable one that's already in Chris's bedroom."

"Ooo," Justin grins and drinks more tea. "Yeah. You don't need that, do you?"

"Hey," JC lowers his chopsticks. "Maybe I get first dibs on the bed."

"Yeah," Nick looks from JC to Justin, "but do you really want to fight him for it? I think he's one of those quiet, vicious types."

Justin growls for added effect, but Cornell swats at him. "Be nice, you. We're trying to get you a place to live here."

"Fine," Justin sighs, then looks at JC in high puppy dog mode. "But it would be nice to have a nice bed to come home to. Seeing as my furniture supply is so limited."

JC rolls his eyes. "Dork." That's all he really feels the need to say on the subject.

 

After dinner they hop between Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks because Joey wants a chocolate donut, JC wants a peanut butter cookie, and Justin wants a gingerbread latte. With soy, please and thank you. JC kind of wonders if Justin's checked to see if the gingerbread syrup is vegan. He suspects Justin might not be checking on purpose, just in case. It's always fun to spot a weakness or two.

Maybe he's been quiet too long because Nick goes from rubbing JC's shoulder to poking at his side. JC looks up at him. "What?"

Nick just smiles and shakes his head. "Hey."

"Hey." JC smiles back. He taps his fingers on the edge of his cup and looks around at the group. It feels like the right time for announcements. He stops tapping at the cup. "So, I'm thinking about going back to school again. At night maybe. And finishing." He waits for an awkward pause but there really isn't one.

"Okay," Joey nods, "for what?"

"Business. Something with small businesses. How to run them and stuff." JC shrugs. "Yeah, I've kind of been getting ideas."

"Huh." Lance nods. "You've got enough management experience anyway at this point." He picks up another carrot out of his rice. "You thinking of trying to start something?"

"Maybe?" JC shifts in his chair. "I figure I should start smaller though. Maybe someone's starting something and I can help with it? Something like that." He nods. "Chris said that we should talk about stuff."

"Yeah," Lance nods. "Yeah, we should," he shrugs. "Because, I don't know, but why the hell not try? I mean, I could go to grad school, yeah. Or I could try something crazy first and see what happens. Why not?"

"Yeah," JC nods. "Cool."

"Very cool," Nick smiles. "Hey, this is good stuff."

"Well," Justin grins. "Your parents will be thrilled."

"Yeah," JC stabs a his pile of leftover onions with his chopsticks. "That's the annoying part."

"Right," Britney snorts, "you love it."

"Maybe." JC looks back down at his plate and doesn't try too hard not to smile. Nick's hand is near JC's on the table and JC looks over at him, turns his head, just a little, so he can see him better. Nick nods. This is good. JC thinks it feels right. Or at least better and approaching good. He feels like something just happened. He's not sure what, but something.

 

 

 **Chapter 34: _A New Dimension of Sight and Sound_**

The problem with an experimental DJ artist is that they do not "spin." They do not take "requests." They create Art with Tools. And if, say, a homeowner-- or, in this case, an apartment lessee-- decided to shift the DJ'ing Tools a little bit further to the left, an experimental DJ artist will have issues with this decision in a way that the typical pay-by-hour DJ will not.

In this particular case Pharell is concerned with the move's impact on acoustics. He's telling this to everyone, repeatedly, and expressing great concern about the impact on the sound now that the doorway is two feet closer.

Lance is convinced that his friends have brought a crazy person into his new home and will be perfectly content if the Pharell person would just pack up and leave. JC doesn't think that Lance's loud declarations about this, and how Chris's record collection would make a completely acceptable replacement, are particularly productive and also, doesn't Lance know by now that it's not nice to talk loudly about people where they might be able to hear you?

Drama abounds and JC settles back into a comfortable corner of the room to watch all of it. Justin and Cornell throw the charm at Pharell wildly, trying to persuade him it's a-okay. JC gives them ten minutes to work the mojo. No one's immune really, some people just take a little more work than others.

After a while the tide turns and the conversation swerves into some kind of obscure debate about Kraftwork vs. Air, only it's about the album covers, not the actual music. When they start debating color choices, JC decides he's had enough of his comfortable corner and he heads over to the central command area (known by day as Lance and Chris's kitchen) where Britney and Nick are industriously frosting cupcakes.

The cupcakes were, officially, the best idea ever. One, because they're chocolate. Two, because no one can hate a cupcake. Three, because they're each being iced with red and white stripes on top.

At this point, someone might wonder why the cupcakes were being iced with red and white stripes, since the whole project is rather time consuming, but that someone clearly didn't see the stunning flyers Justin created for the evening declaring the theme of the housewarming extravaganza to be Dr. Seuss. JC is in love with the theme and no matter how many times Lance expresses great embarrassment and humiliation at the idea of a theme party being thrown in his home, or Chris groans in pain and regrets ever agreeing to let them into the apartment in the first place, JC feels quite sure they will, one day, thank all of them for the experience. Someday. Until then Lance is just grumbling at a pretty constant rate about how, while he does like Dr. Seuss, he certainly doesn't think it's necessary to take it quite this far. Because there's a difference between liking and crazy.

Lance is partway through another analogy when Chris presents himself to the group. He's fully decked out in eyeliner, black boots, and black t-shirt. This manages to shut Lance up. Instead, he examines Chris very very carefully from head to toe, then grins. "You look fucking hot."

Chris smirks. "I thought so."

Lance nods and examines Chris's ass for a minute, then nods again. "Well, now I know what we're doing this evening."

"No," Britney sticks a finger in the red icing and samples. "You have hosting responsibilities." She looks at Chris rather disapprovingly. "That includes setting a tone. And while you look damn hot, there is a theme to this party, you know."

Chris rolls his eyes. "So all of you keep telling us. That doesn't mean I'm wearing it." He looks at the cupcakes. "Oh for fuck's sake." He looks at Lance. "Do we know them?"

"No," Lance shakes his head. "I say we make a run for it. People are not going to let this crap be forgotten."

"Hey," JC frowns, "you should be thanking us for that."

"Or, think of it this way," Nick shrugs, "your pain is good for your art."

"Yeah," Britney nods, "you'll get great columns out of this."

Chris leans against the sink, arms crossed. "That requires admitting it occurred. In public."

"No," Nick shakes his head. "It's an opportunity to talk about how your friends forced you against your will."

"I'm going to have a kick-ass time." Britney finishes a stripe of white and reaches for more of the red. "I'm not sure I care if they thank us later."

Lance sighs and kicks at the wall with his foot. "What time is it anyway?"

Britney checks her watch. "Time for me to get ready." She hops up and heads for her bag on the counter. "Justin, I'm getting ready now!"

Justin's voice comes back at them from the living room. "I'll be right there!"

Lance looks at Chris. "He's dealing with that DJ." Lance frowns like he's not sure DJ is the appropriate word."

"The one all worried about his altered acoustics?" Chris sighs, then looks at JC. "Why is he here again?"

JC gets up and heads for the fridge, he needs some water. "You haven't even heard him do anything yet. Justin says he's worth it."

"He'd better be." Lance walks from the table to the wall and then back to the table. He's about a lap away from pacing the room. "He won't even take requests."

"Well," Justin walks in, carrying his messenger bag, "that's because they don't need to make requests. He reads the crowd's energy. Cupcakes!" He grabs one of the smudged ones Nick's left to the side of the trays and licks the icing off of the top. "You just have to trust me here. It's going to be great."

"Yeah," Lance raises an eyebrow. "Amazing."

Justin gets crumbs on his shirt and looks distressed. He's wearing a perfectly faded _Horton Hears a Who_ t-shirt. JC's pretty sure it's a relic of Justin's childhood.

Britney coughs pointedly and Justin grins. "Okay come on, let's get you ready to go."

The two of them head off towards the bedroom and close the door behind them. Lance rolls his eyes again and JC wishes he'd created a drinking game for the evening that involved Lance's facial expressions. Chris just sighs.

"I don't want to know."

JC isn't sure which of them says it, which is happening more and more lately. He's not sure if that's a side effect of them moving in together or a sign that it was about damn time because no roommate should have to deal with that.

Nick kicks him under the table and mouths 'behave!' JC wonders how he knew. Then he wonders what he was doing that he should feel guilty about. He concentrates on getting the cupcakes done and adds red icing to the one he's working on before putting it down on the last tray.

 

Later people are arriving and the rooms are filing up quickly. The music is loud and swanky, and it makes JC feel rubbery and smooth. He's leaning against the wall in the living room and arguing with some girl named Mandy and a boy who's wearing a white t-shirt and a little, teeny Lorax pin on his collar. The boy keeps reaching up to adjust his glasses and JC thinks maybe he'll stop wearing contacts altogether, because he likes the horn-rimmed glasses look that people are rocking out in these days.

The three of them are arguing about the election-- surprise surprise. The boy isn't sure a Democrat will actually be any better than George W. and is attempting to argue this. The girl is sighing impatiently at him and JC is trying politely to tell him he's an idiot. It's an important reminder, however, that cute outfits do not always indicate an interesting interior.

"Look," JC leans his hand against the wall and puts on his serious face. "I'm as frustrated as you are with the Democrats, but after the past four years, can you really say the parties are identical? Did you read that _Mother Jones_ article about the EPA finagling?"

The boy looks confused. "What's _Mother Jones_?

JC tries not to sigh too loudly. He looks down at his empty cup and the combination of events makes him want to weep so he just excuses himself. He heads into the hallway and finds Justin with his head back against the wall, just listening to the music. JC leans next to him and touches the edge of his sleeve until Justin opens his eyes. "I told you he was good."

JC nods, then sighs and closes his eyes.

Justin pats his head. "What's up?"

"Some kid just asked me what _Mother Jones_ was. This was after he tried to tell me to that voting Democratic was pointless, without any actual statistics."

Justin clicks his tongue and frowns. "I'm sure he's just young and innocent. Someone will hand it to him soon and then he'll be referencing articles with a vengeance."

"You promise?"

Justin nods. "I promise."

"Good." JC stands up from the wall. "Where's your boy?"

Justin nods towards the kitchen. "Getting drinks."

"I need some of that too." JC backs down the hall a step or two and Justin waves at him as he departs. JC detours back through the main room to see if Nick wants anything, but he runs into AJ instead. He's standing next to some girl, smoking, and tapping the ash into a can of Dr. Pepper.

When he sees JC he yells "JC!" like he's seeing a long lost brother, then grabs at JC's shoulder, nods at the girl he's been talking to, and walks away like it's something he doesn't want, but has to do. When they're far enough out of range he groans on JC's ear. "You're my hero. I was two seconds away from telling her I had crabs or something."

JC winces. "You can't do that, you never know who's going to pass something like that along!"

"Dude, I know," AJ nods. "It was that bad. Here, just squiggle me closer to that Britney of yours and I'll be all good."

JC escorts AJ over, presents him to Britney, and contemplates bowing like they do in the Jane Austen movies, but settles on shrugging and heading back towards the kitchen.

When he gets there he finds a hardcore game of Uno taking place at the table with one fierce looking boy with a green mohawk daring the rest of them to reverse the order back to him so he can kick their asses and many many clusters of people orbiting the main drinks area. Cornell and Justin are backed up against the side of the fridge while Cornell carefully licks a line of salt off Justin's skin before taking a shot of whatever clear liquid Justin is holding ready for him.

JC grabs something at random from the bucket labeled "drinks that are trying not to taste like alcohol" and heads over.

Cornell grins at him. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Ish," JC shrugs. "I'm crowd surfing a bit. I figure the networking is good for me."

"Have you seen Joey yet?" Justin picks up a can that probably came from the bucket labeled "drinks for those concerned about looking manly" and takes a swig.

"No," JC shakes his head. "And he's a lame ass if he pulls a no show."

Cornell just leans back against the fridge and smiles, rubbing his arm. "Maybe he's getting laid."

"I don't know," Justin frowns. "There are some perks to that, but this is about friendship, simpatico. Isn't that worth more?"

"Depends on if it's Kelly or not." Cornell steals some of Justin's beer, then yawns.

Justin just pokes him. "No sleeping!" He tugs at Cornell's hand and grabs for JC's. "Come. We will socialize and mingle."

They head towards the main room. Britney and Nick are dancing with their shoes off, doing something resembling the twist. Britney's rocking out in a rather stunning shade of chartreuse this evening and she's got a white scarf on with yellow splotches that sort of resemble eggs. Nick's doing the striped thing, so between the two of them there's an odd explosion of color taking place. Then again, the room is pretty vibrant in general.

After a song or two the DJ seems to feel a change of mood is in order and Nick hates Devo so they claim a corner for themselves, which JC was hoping would happen anyway. Chris and Lance are nowhere to be seen, but JC's pretty sure they've been hiding in their bedroom since about ten minutes after the party officially started. That two people are so mutually horrified by this sort of soirée is probably another sign of an excellent match, probably.

 

Just after one, there's a brief awkward scene when Wade attempts to arrive with some idiot on his arm. Apparently he missed the memo where he wasn't invited. They aren't even in theme, which is unacceptable in JC's world.

AJ's the one who handles it. He stands in the hallway, arms crossed and just stares at Wade, blocking his path and looking rather fierce. The ten or so temporary Dr. Seuss tattoos he's sporting on his arms might diminish the fierceness slightly, but it seems to do the trick because Wade and his date excuse themselves.

AJ rejoins the group and Cornell declares that AJ should try being a bouncer for a living.

AJ shrugs. "I'd rather be a rockstar." He's winks at Britney.

"Mmm," Britney looks him up and down carefully. "You already are, you're just waiting for a band to find you."

AJ raises an eyebrow at that but she doesn't say anything more, just asks, "Justin, sweetie," for a sip of his drink.

During the pause, DJ artist Pharell switches to the Jackson Five and JC drags Nick up to boogie.

 

Much much later it's something close to four a.m. and pretty much everyone has gone home except for a few clumps outside awaiting cabs. The apartment looks like a bomb hit it, but that's to be expected.

Pharell and his friend/ride Chad are packing up his equipment and records, but Pharell has a process for everything so no one is even trying to help. Britney's curled up, practically in AJ's lap, Justin and Cornell are collecting cups from behind furniture and odd corners, and JC's sitting on the floor with Nick, just watching and feeling tired but awake at the same time.

Pharell latches the last case closed and Nick and JC help them get it all down to the car. After they take off, JC drags Nick into the stairwell to make out for a bit under the florescent lighting. Nick looks oddly shiny under the lights. Then again, it might be the alcohol adding to the glow and fuzzing JC's brain.

Nick's mouth tastes sticky and spicy at the same time and JC hums a bit at the end of a kiss, leaning into the side of Nick's neck. Nick huffs out air and nudges JC back.

After a few minutes Nick sighs and smiles at him. "We have to help clean."

"Yeah." JC sighs and rubs Nick's back, his fingers just between Nick's belt and his shirt. "Yeah."

Nick snorts. "Don't sound too eager or anything." He tugs at JC's arm. "Come on."

They head upstairs and help fill up one trash bag before Justin says "fuck this" and puts the second bag down. "We can clean it tomorrow." He looks at Britney. " I'm going in. You coming?"

Britney sits up and grins. "Hell yes." She looks around, "one, two--" Then takes off for the bedroom shouting, "three!" Justin and AJ right behind her.

Cornell looks at JC, then Nick. "Come on, you know you want to."

They arrive to lots of groaning and swearing. Chris is attacking Justin with a pillow.

"I hate you, you fucker!"

Lance is attempting to hide under the covers, but Britney and AJ are tickling him so instead he keeps jerking away and yelling about feeling "undignified" and how they're "all fucking fuckheaded friends."

It makes for good entertainment, JC wishes he'd brought popcorn. Instead he stands back and enjoys the carnage, which also keeps him relatively undamaged. Eventually, Chris pins Justin and Cornell feels required to intervene and defend either Justin's honor or dignity, whichever is in the most jeopardy. Eventually they all wind up in heaps on the huge bed Chris owns and all the other available furniture. (One arm chair, one folding chair, and a throw rug.) Eventually it's four-thirty-three in the morning and Lance wonders, aloud, "where the hell is Joey Fatone?"

"Ah," JC says, looking at AJ. "I'm not sure they get to know. I mean, don't you guys think there should be some sort of punishment given to those that ditch their own parties, hide in their bedroom, have loud sex all night, and then try to go to sleep before all their guests depart?"

Britney nods. "Sounds fair to me."

"Hey," Lance frowns. "That's not fair at all. I want to know if my friend is okay."

"Well, obviously he's okay," AJ frowns back. "I mean, we'd be a bit more upset at the moment if he wasn't."

"I think we'd have broken in earlier too." Nick shrugs and looks at Chris.

Chris glares, then looks at Lance. "They really think they can't tell us, don't they?"

Lance shrugs. He slides out of bed and heads for Chris's desk, digging out the phone.

"Oh," Justin sits up. "Don't do that you fuck. It's four a.m,!"

Lance dials the number. "I am merely calling to inquire about the well-being of my friend and hear why he's being a lame-ass and skipping my party."

Justin frowns. "You suck."

Lance holds up a hand, grinning. "Why hello. And who might this be?" After a moment he grins even wider. "Well Kelly, this is Lance. Might I speak to Joey... Oh. Oh?" He looks through some envelopes on the desk. "Joey!" He coughs. "Okay, I don't think that was necessary, you couldn't have been that busy."

Nick shakes his head and looks at JC. "Make him stop."

Justin's the one that gets up and walks over and takes the phone. "Hey. Enjoying yourself there?" He swallows. "Good. I'm going to hang up now and let you get back to whatever it is that you're doing... Uh, no, I really don't need... Ew! Shut up, I'm hanging up now." He hands the phone back to Lance and sits down again.

Britney yawns. "I'm exhausted and they don't have enough couches here. What are we doing?"

AJ looks over at Nick. "I've got a feeling we could all fit at our place."

Nick nods. "Unless we have to deal with Justin's bike. I don't think the cabdrivers will want to deal with six of us and that."

Justin shakes his head. "I am without wheels this evening. Let's just go." He pokes Chris. "You want us to help you clean tomorrow?"

"You'd fucking better." Chris rolls over and grabs his pillow back from Britney. "Call when you get up. We'll get brunch or something first."

"No," Lance kicks AJ and JC off the bed, not particularly gently. "Call sometime after noon, then we'll get brunch." He picks up the edge of his comforter and flicks it back into place over Chris, then rolls over. "You know where the lights are, right? Just close the door behind you." Lance yawns again and sticks his head into Chris's back, between his shoulder blades. "And thank you for the party."

Nick hits the lights and looks over at JC once they're safely out in the hall. "You have your phone?"

JC does, so they all head out to the steps to call a cab. Nick leans against JC's side while they're waiting and Britney, Justin and AJ pass around a cigarette. It's quiet, it's cold, but JC's wearing Nick's gloves and he's got a scarf tugged up to his ears. Nick hums something. Something JC's never heard before or can't recognize. When the cab pulls up the driver doesn't beep or anything, just waits for them all to pile in.

JC stands back and waits. Everyone's in their seat looking sleepy, Cornell laughs at something Britney says, or maybe it's something AJ says, JC's not sure. He just loves all of them. He's tempted to stand there and watch. He'd like to freeze them all in some sort of minute like this forever, but its cold and he can see his breath in the air. He tugs at his scarf and Nick looks back at him, smiling like JC's doing something not entirely surprising.

"Hey," Nick leans out the door. "You coming already?"

JC nods, then gets in slowly. As they pull out AJ starts giving the driver directions towards the apartment and Britney's thanking the driver profusely for letting them all cram in. JC leans against Nick's side and back against the seat. He closes his eyes and imagines them all riding off into the sunset. No, scratch that, braving the Twilight Zone, taking off for Mars. Into infinity and beyond.

 **fin**


End file.
